A/N: I'm not to sure if I this is the last chapter but let's see what
develops in this one, what do you people reckon? Also I haven't read TTT or
ROTK so if something's are there (like the bridge in Mora) haven't been
removed it is because this fellow author is too lazy and lacking an
imagination at the time of the writing of this story.
For my English teacher, Mr Ecclestion, who taught me how to read and write and who also keeps my feet on the ground but let's me fly in my mind with my stories.
Chapter Four: If I Should Fall From Grace
A week later and neither Kingston nor Frodo were doing any better after the wolf attack. In fact, health in both of them was starting to deteriorate at an alarming rate. Kingston's left hoof was swollen twice it's size and he was finding it hard to carry both rider and equipment. So, to make it easier on the animal, Frodo walked beside him and helped carry half of the supplies.
If both thought it was hard then they had no idea of what was ahead of them. Caradhras was their next destination but Frodo didn't much care where he and the pony went.
Due to both of their injures, the climb that awaited them would seem almost unbearable to their batted and bruised bodies and would test their survival for sure.
It took two days to finally reach Caradhras's foot. The icy white mountain glared down at them as it sent down it's snowflake messengers telling them to turn back from it. The wind, which whirled around them, told of coming cold weather and frigid nights.
Frodo looked up and stopped, memories flooding his conscious mind. He sighed, but something told him not to give up so easily. At this decision he gritted his teeth in defiance and suddenly felt a hot, surging wave of some strange mixture of pride, anger, and awe filling and overflowing from his heart at the sight of the great mountains.
Kingston looked wearily up and nickered which sounded like: 'We're climbing that? You've GOT to be kidding me.'
They were tantalisingly near to Moria, and Frodo was desperate to get it over and done with. His shoulder was hurting him badly and the flow of blood hadn't lessened at all. The whole side of his left was covered in blood that was both bight and dark, clotted and watery.
Pony and hobbit both agreed upon camping that night before climbing the treacherous mountain. After a few hours of searching they found a suitable enough cave for them to attempt to light a small fire for the night. After having some sun dried meat, which was quite tasteful along with some lambas, the two of them settled down for the night, with the fire crackling merrily beside the sleeping boy and snoozing pony.
While it was warm inside the cave the weather outside was something to consider. It seemed something knew of what Frodo was trying to accomplish and it tried in every way to make sure that he didn't climb the mountain.
A few hours later, daylight broke through the tiny holes in the grey and miserable clouds which, with the snow still falling, it gave the illusion that angels with beacons of light were searching for him.
It was mighty cold in the cave now that the fire had gone out during the night, but Kingston had layed beside Frodo, once more proving that a pony could be of more use than a simple beast of burden.
Frodo looked out into the snow with frustration written on all of his features, he sighed deeply and started packing. Kingston got up and out of the way.
"I think I will leave the blankets out today, Kingston. For it is very cold and I do not want the both of us to catch a dreadful cold."
He placed the thickest blanket over Kingston's whole body tying it securely with bits of rope. He tacked the pony up and warped a thick blanket around himself.
"I am lucky I packed enough blankets that were from Rivendell," he muttered more to himself than Kingston, "otherwise we would be frozen corpses in the snow."
He did not like the idea of being cooped up and in darkness for days on end with Kingston. Then it occurred to him, they hadn't taken Bill in with them on their previous journey so how did he expect Kingston to survive? Surly the dear pony would get depressed without the light to shine on him and the filth on the ground wouldn't do any good for his injured hoof.
Frodo sighed deeply. "What am I to do?" he asked the pony. "I do not think that you can make a journey like one I am about to enter. I don't want to put you through more pain than you already are in."
Kingston pushed his nose against Frodo's chest, leaving it damp. "What?" he asked and stopped his rambling. "You think you can do it?"
Kingston snorted.
"Well," he pondered for a moment. "It will slow me down by weeks and I don't think I would like it if the others should catch up . . . especially Pippin." He grinned sheepishly at the pony.
Kingston pawed the ground eager to get going and get the mountain behind him, Frodo seemed to sense this and his spirits rose a little.
He had made his mind up.
"Then, if you want to come, you shall."
~*~
"Have you made you mind up or not?" Sam asked impatiently.
"But I don't know what to leave behind!" Pippin whined.
"Oh that's easy," his cousin fumed. "You leave this and that and that, and what the . . ." Merry had been tossing various items out when he found a grubby old teddy bear.
By the looks it was very old and very loved. It's brown fur had been worn and fallen out from being hugged. The bears green eyes were still in place but had somehow lost it's fire, even though it was a still object.
Pippin blushed and snatched at the bear.
"I remember him." Merry said brightly. "I gave him to you when you were six and had been caught by you father raiding the pantry."
"I can still feel the wacks." Pippin shuddered.
"I am curious," Legolas asked, "why did he get a bear when he was doing wrong?"
"Well . . . uh . . . the best scones were on the bottom and he was over when I was peckish, and well, he was the only one to fit."
"Then my father caught me and along with being banned from eating my favourite sweets I got three wacks from his new belt."
Legolas seemed to take that as an excuse and helped Pippin pack what he needed, leaving what they didn't in a place that they would come back to.
If they came back.
"We must leave now, for if we are to reach Frodo we need to keep going." Aragorn said, slinging his pack onto his back.
"A thought has just struck me," Pippin said suddenly, pausing in his mid- pack of Bill. "What if the wolves that attacked us went for him?"
Gandalf turned to Pippin. "He has encountered many perils before, knowing Frodo, he has only received minor scratches and bruises, I am sure he is fine.
How very wrong he was. ~*~
Frodo collapsed into the snow, defeated.
He knew he was being stupid by not going through the mines of Moria as he had when the first quest was on. Instead he convinced the pony and himself that they could do it. Kingston stood beside him panting distraughtly, his hoof lifted off of the ground and most likely frozen.
They just stood there, to exhausted to go on, and not really wanting to. Memories flooded Frodo's mind reminding him of home he'd left behind and one he'd probably never see again, knowing him in his current condition.
Rubbing his numb shoulder out of habit rather than to ease the in it, he realised his vision had become blurry and he couldn't see. Panicking slightly he drew his hand across his eyes and was startled to find tears. He'd been crying and hadn't even known it.
Suddenly, without warning, he burst into stronger tears that racked his already thing frame, crappy food, little water and in constant pain and cold from the journey had built up to him finally breaking his banks.
Kingston watched intriguingly as Frodo got up and tore everything from his saddlebags. The hobbit ripped off the ponies pack, throwing things and baggage's all over the snow, thankfully it was a clear day and no wind was driving it's force otherwise he'd lost everything in a few seconds.
The rage continued, and as it did Frodo continued to throw and scream things such as, "I never asked for this," and "This was never meant to happed to me or my friends."
After throwing everything around he tripped and fell face first into the snow half burying himself, he continued to sob and wish he was back home.
"Sam, Merry, and Pippin. I shall never see them again." He pulled himself up and continued to curse. "Because? Because for what? A greedy dark lord who wanted to control a land that hated and despised him." As he yelled those words a blinding pain ripped through his body causing him to fall with a yell.
He layed there, shivering for the rage had fled his body and left him more exhausted than before. Breathing shakily he lifted his head to stare at the small black pony, who for the past few weeks had become his world of hope and life.
"I have fallen from grace." Frodo muttered and pulled himself into a sitting position. "And I do not know how to get back on."
Kingston just stared at him, ears pricked forward. Frodo could almost imagine him saying: 'You feel better? Cause even though I didn't make a fool of myself, I sure do. Now let's clean this mess up and get going to Moria, what do you say, you silly hobbit?'
Somehow, Kingston's look brought humour to Frodo, who smiled weakly, he slowly pulled himself to his feet and began picking up his mess of rage, after a few minutes everything was packed and they climbed down the mountain to meet their fate at Moria.
~*~
Not too far away were seven tired adventures.
All, except Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, collapsed. And now a little while later a fire crackled merrily in front of them.
They were all a little down spirited but not as Sam. He'd been rather quiet for a few days now, hardly eating and only talking when talked too.
After a while Merry became concerned with this behaviour and waited for a time when Sam was along (which as hard, as Aragorn was keeping a close eye on him) that opportunity came when they came across a small river and he'd approached him. Unfortunately Aragorn had called them, saying it was time for them to move on.
So, when everyone else was asleep and Legolas was out of sight, he again approached Sam.
"Sam? Are you awake?"
Sam said nothing.
Merry chose not to do anything that would make him regret being born so he gently shook the gardener.
"But mama the pony's to big to ride."
Merry would have laughed if had come from Sam instead it came from Pippin as he rolled over. The hobbit just rolled his eyes and continued to shake Sam awake.
"What is Mr Merry? Is something wrong?"
"Yes," said Merry quietly. "you." "Me?" he asked confused. "Why?" "You are too quiet, even for you. You hardly eat, talk and you've seemed to have lost hope in this quest."
Legolas quietly listened a little away, he didn't need to walk closer for his sharp ears picked up the talk. Which was somehow helping Sam a little.
" . . . and here I am worrying about how the garden is and not about Mr Frodo, and . . . and what a fix I've put us all in by not going to Rivendell sooner." He said all this quite fast but a listening Merry caught every word.
Suddenly Merry punched Sam fast and hard.
"Sorry," said Merry quickly.
Sam raised a shaking hand and felt his throbbing jaw. "You . . . you hit me!"
"I had to make you snap out of it somehow, otherwise you'd have drowned in self-guilt or whatever it's called." Merry promptly responded.
"You cheeky hobbit."
Merry just smiled at him. "Well, I got you to stop thinking about it didn't I?" he asked innocently.
"Thankyou my friend." Sam said gratefully. ~*~
(This Mine scene is based on the movie cause I haven't read this part in the book)
Something was odd. Odd about the doorway that is. The two looked at each other in confusion, for this was a queer situation indeed.
Even though the door had been completely destroyed by Watcher in the Water a while back, it now stood as if it had never been disturbed or destroyed by a monster.
"Some dwarfs must have reclaimed their mine from the goblins." Frodo muttered. "Or else there is a much more powerful force in there."
Kingston looked up wearily at the door as the moon and starlight struck it. He threw his head a little when out of nowhere an arc appeared in golden Quenya marking the Mines of Moria entrance.
"Well, Kingston, my little friend," the hobbit murmured. "Take a look around here because you will not see it for four to five days."
The pony just snorted and pulled on the reins.
"I hope this eagerness isn't going to be permanent. Because I think you will change you mind." He said this as he prepared a torch with a wrapped piece of rag that was once an old shirt. "Let's hope the journey through here is much more smoother than the last."
Frodo muttered the password after a few minutes of trying to remember it. When the doors opened to let the 'friends' in they walked with a strange spring in their faltering steps.
Hours or days later, Frodo couldn't tell, the torch still burned brightly and with it warmth. This brought some comfort to the two travellers and lifted their spirits which had sunk, due to the fact of complete darkness which was as solid as a wall could be, except this was a wall that you could walk through but were in danger of walking into another.
After having nothing to do his mind started to wonder. What did Gimli the Dwarf see in this place. It sure wasn't beauty or life, for it showed neither in Frodo's eyes. Then from his subconscious he then remembered of the things that the dwarf had told him about.
It was back when the First Quest had taken part in this place. He'd been feeling the weight of the Ring when he heard Pippin request a story to lighten the mood of the members.
"Well, young hobbit." Gimli had started. "These very walls were made from the very best of the builders, not that I'm saying we dwarfs are not terrific builders, but the room we cross now was chosen for banquets and feasts that took place when we had other royalty here."
He then moved on to battles and conquests of treasure and wealth. How these halls were filled with light glinting on fine gold treasures, goblets, candelabras, necklaces and how legend told of treasure being made of pure substance that would make you live forever or turn anything to gold.
Suddenly, to Frodo anyway, Moria suddenly did not seem so dark or unpleasant.
Just then he realised he had crossed into the place where Pippin had touched the skeleton which had fallen down the well.
"The silly hobbit didn't learn his lesson there, though." Frodo muttered remembering Gandalf's story of when his cousin had touched the plantar.
The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single, oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone.
Frodo looked at the tomb with tired and weary eyes. He hated death, in every form. Whether it was murder, natural or sacrificial, that was the one thing, in his view anyway, that he didn't agree with.
He and Kingston walked on without looking back.
***
The bridge.
Kingston and Frodo had spent hours climbing and slipping down the stares that led to the bridge of Karzard Doom.
He now stood there, looking like a child who'd lost their way in the world. The little pony stood next to him, munching on some lembas and paying no attention to his wound.
Frodo remembered how Gandalf had fallen into the shadow, whispering 'fly, you fools.' He had to remind himself that Gandalf was, in fact, alive and well.
A few hours later they walked out to the sunlight, which assaulted their now darkness-keen eyes. The pair closed them in defence and opened them slowly.
"Kingston, I think we should stop at Lorien, for I am afraid I am beginning to feel most terrible and I can not go on like this much longer, and neither can you."
Kingston just nodded his head and looked at Frodo with his dark eyes.
~*~
All were on horse back. Merry on Brandy, Pippin on Frost, Gimli with Legolas on Arana, Aragorn on Bow a cross of Arabian and Anderlusion, Gandalf on Shadowfax and Sam on his beloved Bill.
It was for the reason that they hoped to catch up with their missing companion rather than for pleasure, even though Frost and Brandy knew how to race Arana, the elf-horse.
"Halt!" Legolas cried suddenly. His sharp eyes had caught something on the trail. He sprung off Arana and bent down to investigate further.
The tips of his long fingers touched the liquid as Aragorn dismounted from his horse Bow, he then came and knelt next to the elf.
"It is blood, but a few hours long."
"You are right, but something tells me it's been here for a few days, two at the most." Aragorn said as he rubbed the clotting contense between his fingers.
"Do you think it could be Frodo?" Legolas whispered, so none of the other hobbits could hear.
"It is possible." Aragorn hushed his own voice for the same reason. "He was rather sickly even after he was healed."
"You fear for his life then?"
"Yes, for this is of great concern, the blood is as old as he is ahead of us." Aragorn confirmed his fears.
"And what do we do if we come across his body?"
"Let us hope it doesn't come to that." The ranger replied looking at the rest of the Company.
~*~
The luggage caused his footing to be sluggish and unco-ordinated, so adding to his humiliation and pain, he stumbled and onto that soggy ground.
Slowly, he lifted his face out of the moss and unidentifiable vegetation then wiped his mouth. Frodo was about to stand up when he something caught his eye.
A small dribble of blood was meandering it's way down his fingers to fall into the crook of where they met his palm.
Blood?
Surely it had come from his injured shoulder. Not anywhere else.
A coughing fit seized the young hobbit, causing him to double over in an attempt to reclaim his breath before he fainted. This did nothing for his burning lungs and he weakly fell to his knees, his head sweaty spinning from lack of oxygen.
Finally, the fit left his tired and ragged body, leaving him gasping. His breath coming in wheezes and light coughs that worsened the pain in his shoulder. Frodo clutched at it, moaning and wondering how long before he was going to be left in peace.
Then Kingston's ears pricked up and he looked around with great interest in the Golden Wood. Suddenly he let loose a deep and loud shriek. He stood listening for a moment or two before letting loose another sound. It was as if a drum had been struck in the pony's throat and he had only realised how to strum it. Again he whinnied and this time Frodo took action.
"Kingston! Please!" he pleaded. "Be quiet. I do not need to be shot down with arrows, especially elf ones."
The pony didn't seem to hear him and kept up his act, all the while looking around with bright and alert eyes. The hobbit grabbed him by the reins and yanked his head down to his level. "Hold you tongue or we shall be in peril very soon." He released the reins and as soon as he had Kingston started whinnying.
Suddenly something caught his eye and he reared in fright, knocking Frodo to the ground.
In his blurry vision, he saw Kingston standing quietly and whinnying again and again. Then two slender figures knelt beside the fallen hobbit.
And that's when blackness took over.
Meanwhile . . . in a place not too far away . . .
(A/N: I know I left this way, way, WAY to late but I was getting bored with the storyline and so I changed it a little. I hope you people like it and if it's a bit flawed . . . well, DEAL with it. It's only fanfiction people!)
A gentle wind blew, making the leaves dance or shiver, whichever way you looked at it. And it made Athanasia breath in deeply just because she could and nothing could hold her back.
Her gray eyes scanned the surroundings in which she and her friend, Hesperos, now stood.
"Why, may I ask, have you brought me here." He huffed. He had never much liked Athanasia's adventurous side and he usually left and played with the other elf children when she showed it, but this time he decided to stick with her and see what came out of this.
"I heard the calling of a pony, he was calling to us, saying he and his friend needed help." She said this like she was waking from a dream.
"You are starting to sound like Galadriel you know that?"
Athanasia chose to ignore that comment, instead she continued on gently pushing aside branches and other things that crossed her and Hesperos's path.
"Are you SURE his voice carried all the way from here?"
"Yes! Why do you always insist on making my journeys difficult and hard to complete?" she said and turned to him.
Hesperos did not reply, instead he simply smiled and took her in his arms. "I fear for your safety and would forever hate myself if any harm were to come to you."
Then he kissed her.
So this was why he was always fidgety around her and seemed to be bursting from the inside out. He was in love with her.
The two were 1,867 years old, ancient in out time but just teenagers in there's and he'd loved her since he was born. No since before he was born.
Then a sound in the distance made them break apart. Each were breathing with pleasure and rather red in the face especially for an elf.
"You see," she whispered to him. "I did hear something."
"Yes, and I also see something." He breathed. "It is you and it will forever will be."
"We'll get back to this moment, I promise, but I feel that something is in need of our help."
With that, she sprung away and disappeared.
For a while they both ran to where the pony's cries were coming, then there was silence and with that urgent murmuring, then again the pony started it's frantic whinnying. A few seconds later Hesperos picked up a stone and threw it. There was a frightened shriek and silence, looking out they saw something. There, in the clearing, they found a pony and a dark shape at the it's hooves. At this the two elves walked out to where the pony stood quietly and waited for their help.
The dark shape at his hooves was that of a creature that had passed here only once. Immediately the two kneeled next to it.
"It is a child," murmured Hesperos, as he engrossed himself in the warfare of the 'child'. "And he is injured."
"Do you not listen to what the guardian Haldir teaches?" Athanasia smiled, at her friends foolishness. "This is a hobbit, all the way from the Shire. And by the looks of it, he looks as if he could be a member of Frodo Baggins. I have never asked why he and his companions were allowed to pass through the Golden Wood."
Hesperos continued to investigate Frodo's injuries further. "He is also severely fevered. I do not know how he has stayed in this world so long."
"Then we must hurry and fetch him help." Athanasia said standing up and brushing the soft dirt from her cloths. Without a second glance, she dashed into the forest with her friend crying after her.
"Noro lim, Athanasia. I do not know how much longer he can hold on for!"
Her feet softly pounded the damp earth and her breath was rythamtic with her running. She would make it in time, she couldn't say how she knew, she just did.
Seconds later she came to where she was intended to reach. Quietly, even for an elf, she scampered up the staires and reached the healing house.
"Vitaikin, are you home or am I talking to myself?" she whispered.
"I am home. But I think it is most humorous when you do." Came the voice of Vitaikin. He was a tall, slender elf, his black hair swept back into many brainds that covered his whole head, other elves thought the look to be strange and even a little unerving. But both Hesperos and Athanasia thought it to be a help if battle ever broke out.
"Vitaikin, remember that favor that you owe Herperos and I? Well, we may hav to use it now for we have a stranger at the edge of our very own woods and I fear that out Lady won't let him in. You must hurry for he is very ill and I am afraid he will no last very long."
While she was explaining everything her friend packed his supplies in a small knapsack that was woven from the softest cloth.
"By the descriptation of where this stranger lies I think I know of where he is. Now you mus stay here for I fear they will notice if the healing house is left empty, eventhough we never have use of it."
With that he left her standing there. Only she had another way out.
From the depths of her cloths she pulled out a golden necklace that had on it a ring.
A very familiar ring.
She quietly slipped on the piece of jewellery, disappeared and went after Vitaikin.
A Few Weeks Before . . .
"Now, what has caused you to walk out of the Golden Wood?" Athanasia asked herself as her feet traced the stones in the small stream. Her mind had been elsewhere and so, while following the stream, she soon found herself out of her beloved home.
It wasn't to far and she could retrace her steps back anyway so instead of panicking she enjoyed herself more. The sunlight was liquid and fingered Athanasia's face and arms and each time she tried to take hold of it, it simply melted and fell onto the streams clear and beautiful water. The fish made daring games of swimming up and nibbling her toes, in return they world receive a tickle on the belly which they delighted in, they would then jump out of the gurgling stream and land with a small 'splash'. To Athanasia this was heaven.
Then something golden caught her eye. She walked up to where the glint was and knelt beside it. She also noticed that the trout seemed to stay away from the object, which was strange because the ones in this stream were attracted to objects whether they be shiny and new or old and dull.
Leaning closer she also knoticed that it was a ring. So without thinking she plunged her hand in and snagged it.
It was warm.
That was the first thing she observed when it was sefetly in her palm. And also, even though it sounded silly and someptly impossible, it seemed to be murmuring some unknown language which sounded strange and . . . evil.
But how could a ring be evil.
Where were the fish? Athanasia looked around and noticed that no fish of any type was in the stream anymore. Standing up she realised that it was suddenly growing dark.
So pocketing the newly found treasure, she rushed on her unseen trail so she wouldn't get punished for being out at night.
She failed to notice that the sun and fish came back when she had all but disappeared from their sight.
TBC . . .
~*~
I would like to thank my friend Sarah Cooze for giving me the names of the three elf children. Sarah, you truly are: The Queen of Names.
I would also like to apologise for the spelling of Lembas, I found out I was spelling like: lambas and realised my error and NO I'm not going to change it in the other chapters.
And I need some ideas for the next chapter cause I'm running out. I'll dedicate the next chapter and use the idea that is choses.
And remember to REVIEW!!!!!!!!
For my English teacher, Mr Ecclestion, who taught me how to read and write and who also keeps my feet on the ground but let's me fly in my mind with my stories.
Chapter Four: If I Should Fall From Grace
A week later and neither Kingston nor Frodo were doing any better after the wolf attack. In fact, health in both of them was starting to deteriorate at an alarming rate. Kingston's left hoof was swollen twice it's size and he was finding it hard to carry both rider and equipment. So, to make it easier on the animal, Frodo walked beside him and helped carry half of the supplies.
If both thought it was hard then they had no idea of what was ahead of them. Caradhras was their next destination but Frodo didn't much care where he and the pony went.
Due to both of their injures, the climb that awaited them would seem almost unbearable to their batted and bruised bodies and would test their survival for sure.
It took two days to finally reach Caradhras's foot. The icy white mountain glared down at them as it sent down it's snowflake messengers telling them to turn back from it. The wind, which whirled around them, told of coming cold weather and frigid nights.
Frodo looked up and stopped, memories flooding his conscious mind. He sighed, but something told him not to give up so easily. At this decision he gritted his teeth in defiance and suddenly felt a hot, surging wave of some strange mixture of pride, anger, and awe filling and overflowing from his heart at the sight of the great mountains.
Kingston looked wearily up and nickered which sounded like: 'We're climbing that? You've GOT to be kidding me.'
They were tantalisingly near to Moria, and Frodo was desperate to get it over and done with. His shoulder was hurting him badly and the flow of blood hadn't lessened at all. The whole side of his left was covered in blood that was both bight and dark, clotted and watery.
Pony and hobbit both agreed upon camping that night before climbing the treacherous mountain. After a few hours of searching they found a suitable enough cave for them to attempt to light a small fire for the night. After having some sun dried meat, which was quite tasteful along with some lambas, the two of them settled down for the night, with the fire crackling merrily beside the sleeping boy and snoozing pony.
While it was warm inside the cave the weather outside was something to consider. It seemed something knew of what Frodo was trying to accomplish and it tried in every way to make sure that he didn't climb the mountain.
A few hours later, daylight broke through the tiny holes in the grey and miserable clouds which, with the snow still falling, it gave the illusion that angels with beacons of light were searching for him.
It was mighty cold in the cave now that the fire had gone out during the night, but Kingston had layed beside Frodo, once more proving that a pony could be of more use than a simple beast of burden.
Frodo looked out into the snow with frustration written on all of his features, he sighed deeply and started packing. Kingston got up and out of the way.
"I think I will leave the blankets out today, Kingston. For it is very cold and I do not want the both of us to catch a dreadful cold."
He placed the thickest blanket over Kingston's whole body tying it securely with bits of rope. He tacked the pony up and warped a thick blanket around himself.
"I am lucky I packed enough blankets that were from Rivendell," he muttered more to himself than Kingston, "otherwise we would be frozen corpses in the snow."
He did not like the idea of being cooped up and in darkness for days on end with Kingston. Then it occurred to him, they hadn't taken Bill in with them on their previous journey so how did he expect Kingston to survive? Surly the dear pony would get depressed without the light to shine on him and the filth on the ground wouldn't do any good for his injured hoof.
Frodo sighed deeply. "What am I to do?" he asked the pony. "I do not think that you can make a journey like one I am about to enter. I don't want to put you through more pain than you already are in."
Kingston pushed his nose against Frodo's chest, leaving it damp. "What?" he asked and stopped his rambling. "You think you can do it?"
Kingston snorted.
"Well," he pondered for a moment. "It will slow me down by weeks and I don't think I would like it if the others should catch up . . . especially Pippin." He grinned sheepishly at the pony.
Kingston pawed the ground eager to get going and get the mountain behind him, Frodo seemed to sense this and his spirits rose a little.
He had made his mind up.
"Then, if you want to come, you shall."
~*~
"Have you made you mind up or not?" Sam asked impatiently.
"But I don't know what to leave behind!" Pippin whined.
"Oh that's easy," his cousin fumed. "You leave this and that and that, and what the . . ." Merry had been tossing various items out when he found a grubby old teddy bear.
By the looks it was very old and very loved. It's brown fur had been worn and fallen out from being hugged. The bears green eyes were still in place but had somehow lost it's fire, even though it was a still object.
Pippin blushed and snatched at the bear.
"I remember him." Merry said brightly. "I gave him to you when you were six and had been caught by you father raiding the pantry."
"I can still feel the wacks." Pippin shuddered.
"I am curious," Legolas asked, "why did he get a bear when he was doing wrong?"
"Well . . . uh . . . the best scones were on the bottom and he was over when I was peckish, and well, he was the only one to fit."
"Then my father caught me and along with being banned from eating my favourite sweets I got three wacks from his new belt."
Legolas seemed to take that as an excuse and helped Pippin pack what he needed, leaving what they didn't in a place that they would come back to.
If they came back.
"We must leave now, for if we are to reach Frodo we need to keep going." Aragorn said, slinging his pack onto his back.
"A thought has just struck me," Pippin said suddenly, pausing in his mid- pack of Bill. "What if the wolves that attacked us went for him?"
Gandalf turned to Pippin. "He has encountered many perils before, knowing Frodo, he has only received minor scratches and bruises, I am sure he is fine.
How very wrong he was. ~*~
Frodo collapsed into the snow, defeated.
He knew he was being stupid by not going through the mines of Moria as he had when the first quest was on. Instead he convinced the pony and himself that they could do it. Kingston stood beside him panting distraughtly, his hoof lifted off of the ground and most likely frozen.
They just stood there, to exhausted to go on, and not really wanting to. Memories flooded Frodo's mind reminding him of home he'd left behind and one he'd probably never see again, knowing him in his current condition.
Rubbing his numb shoulder out of habit rather than to ease the in it, he realised his vision had become blurry and he couldn't see. Panicking slightly he drew his hand across his eyes and was startled to find tears. He'd been crying and hadn't even known it.
Suddenly, without warning, he burst into stronger tears that racked his already thing frame, crappy food, little water and in constant pain and cold from the journey had built up to him finally breaking his banks.
Kingston watched intriguingly as Frodo got up and tore everything from his saddlebags. The hobbit ripped off the ponies pack, throwing things and baggage's all over the snow, thankfully it was a clear day and no wind was driving it's force otherwise he'd lost everything in a few seconds.
The rage continued, and as it did Frodo continued to throw and scream things such as, "I never asked for this," and "This was never meant to happed to me or my friends."
After throwing everything around he tripped and fell face first into the snow half burying himself, he continued to sob and wish he was back home.
"Sam, Merry, and Pippin. I shall never see them again." He pulled himself up and continued to curse. "Because? Because for what? A greedy dark lord who wanted to control a land that hated and despised him." As he yelled those words a blinding pain ripped through his body causing him to fall with a yell.
He layed there, shivering for the rage had fled his body and left him more exhausted than before. Breathing shakily he lifted his head to stare at the small black pony, who for the past few weeks had become his world of hope and life.
"I have fallen from grace." Frodo muttered and pulled himself into a sitting position. "And I do not know how to get back on."
Kingston just stared at him, ears pricked forward. Frodo could almost imagine him saying: 'You feel better? Cause even though I didn't make a fool of myself, I sure do. Now let's clean this mess up and get going to Moria, what do you say, you silly hobbit?'
Somehow, Kingston's look brought humour to Frodo, who smiled weakly, he slowly pulled himself to his feet and began picking up his mess of rage, after a few minutes everything was packed and they climbed down the mountain to meet their fate at Moria.
~*~
Not too far away were seven tired adventures.
All, except Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, collapsed. And now a little while later a fire crackled merrily in front of them.
They were all a little down spirited but not as Sam. He'd been rather quiet for a few days now, hardly eating and only talking when talked too.
After a while Merry became concerned with this behaviour and waited for a time when Sam was along (which as hard, as Aragorn was keeping a close eye on him) that opportunity came when they came across a small river and he'd approached him. Unfortunately Aragorn had called them, saying it was time for them to move on.
So, when everyone else was asleep and Legolas was out of sight, he again approached Sam.
"Sam? Are you awake?"
Sam said nothing.
Merry chose not to do anything that would make him regret being born so he gently shook the gardener.
"But mama the pony's to big to ride."
Merry would have laughed if had come from Sam instead it came from Pippin as he rolled over. The hobbit just rolled his eyes and continued to shake Sam awake.
"What is Mr Merry? Is something wrong?"
"Yes," said Merry quietly. "you." "Me?" he asked confused. "Why?" "You are too quiet, even for you. You hardly eat, talk and you've seemed to have lost hope in this quest."
Legolas quietly listened a little away, he didn't need to walk closer for his sharp ears picked up the talk. Which was somehow helping Sam a little.
" . . . and here I am worrying about how the garden is and not about Mr Frodo, and . . . and what a fix I've put us all in by not going to Rivendell sooner." He said all this quite fast but a listening Merry caught every word.
Suddenly Merry punched Sam fast and hard.
"Sorry," said Merry quickly.
Sam raised a shaking hand and felt his throbbing jaw. "You . . . you hit me!"
"I had to make you snap out of it somehow, otherwise you'd have drowned in self-guilt or whatever it's called." Merry promptly responded.
"You cheeky hobbit."
Merry just smiled at him. "Well, I got you to stop thinking about it didn't I?" he asked innocently.
"Thankyou my friend." Sam said gratefully. ~*~
(This Mine scene is based on the movie cause I haven't read this part in the book)
Something was odd. Odd about the doorway that is. The two looked at each other in confusion, for this was a queer situation indeed.
Even though the door had been completely destroyed by Watcher in the Water a while back, it now stood as if it had never been disturbed or destroyed by a monster.
"Some dwarfs must have reclaimed their mine from the goblins." Frodo muttered. "Or else there is a much more powerful force in there."
Kingston looked up wearily at the door as the moon and starlight struck it. He threw his head a little when out of nowhere an arc appeared in golden Quenya marking the Mines of Moria entrance.
"Well, Kingston, my little friend," the hobbit murmured. "Take a look around here because you will not see it for four to five days."
The pony just snorted and pulled on the reins.
"I hope this eagerness isn't going to be permanent. Because I think you will change you mind." He said this as he prepared a torch with a wrapped piece of rag that was once an old shirt. "Let's hope the journey through here is much more smoother than the last."
Frodo muttered the password after a few minutes of trying to remember it. When the doors opened to let the 'friends' in they walked with a strange spring in their faltering steps.
Hours or days later, Frodo couldn't tell, the torch still burned brightly and with it warmth. This brought some comfort to the two travellers and lifted their spirits which had sunk, due to the fact of complete darkness which was as solid as a wall could be, except this was a wall that you could walk through but were in danger of walking into another.
After having nothing to do his mind started to wonder. What did Gimli the Dwarf see in this place. It sure wasn't beauty or life, for it showed neither in Frodo's eyes. Then from his subconscious he then remembered of the things that the dwarf had told him about.
It was back when the First Quest had taken part in this place. He'd been feeling the weight of the Ring when he heard Pippin request a story to lighten the mood of the members.
"Well, young hobbit." Gimli had started. "These very walls were made from the very best of the builders, not that I'm saying we dwarfs are not terrific builders, but the room we cross now was chosen for banquets and feasts that took place when we had other royalty here."
He then moved on to battles and conquests of treasure and wealth. How these halls were filled with light glinting on fine gold treasures, goblets, candelabras, necklaces and how legend told of treasure being made of pure substance that would make you live forever or turn anything to gold.
Suddenly, to Frodo anyway, Moria suddenly did not seem so dark or unpleasant.
Just then he realised he had crossed into the place where Pippin had touched the skeleton which had fallen down the well.
"The silly hobbit didn't learn his lesson there, though." Frodo muttered remembering Gandalf's story of when his cousin had touched the plantar.
The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single, oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone.
Frodo looked at the tomb with tired and weary eyes. He hated death, in every form. Whether it was murder, natural or sacrificial, that was the one thing, in his view anyway, that he didn't agree with.
He and Kingston walked on without looking back.
***
The bridge.
Kingston and Frodo had spent hours climbing and slipping down the stares that led to the bridge of Karzard Doom.
He now stood there, looking like a child who'd lost their way in the world. The little pony stood next to him, munching on some lembas and paying no attention to his wound.
Frodo remembered how Gandalf had fallen into the shadow, whispering 'fly, you fools.' He had to remind himself that Gandalf was, in fact, alive and well.
A few hours later they walked out to the sunlight, which assaulted their now darkness-keen eyes. The pair closed them in defence and opened them slowly.
"Kingston, I think we should stop at Lorien, for I am afraid I am beginning to feel most terrible and I can not go on like this much longer, and neither can you."
Kingston just nodded his head and looked at Frodo with his dark eyes.
~*~
All were on horse back. Merry on Brandy, Pippin on Frost, Gimli with Legolas on Arana, Aragorn on Bow a cross of Arabian and Anderlusion, Gandalf on Shadowfax and Sam on his beloved Bill.
It was for the reason that they hoped to catch up with their missing companion rather than for pleasure, even though Frost and Brandy knew how to race Arana, the elf-horse.
"Halt!" Legolas cried suddenly. His sharp eyes had caught something on the trail. He sprung off Arana and bent down to investigate further.
The tips of his long fingers touched the liquid as Aragorn dismounted from his horse Bow, he then came and knelt next to the elf.
"It is blood, but a few hours long."
"You are right, but something tells me it's been here for a few days, two at the most." Aragorn said as he rubbed the clotting contense between his fingers.
"Do you think it could be Frodo?" Legolas whispered, so none of the other hobbits could hear.
"It is possible." Aragorn hushed his own voice for the same reason. "He was rather sickly even after he was healed."
"You fear for his life then?"
"Yes, for this is of great concern, the blood is as old as he is ahead of us." Aragorn confirmed his fears.
"And what do we do if we come across his body?"
"Let us hope it doesn't come to that." The ranger replied looking at the rest of the Company.
~*~
The luggage caused his footing to be sluggish and unco-ordinated, so adding to his humiliation and pain, he stumbled and onto that soggy ground.
Slowly, he lifted his face out of the moss and unidentifiable vegetation then wiped his mouth. Frodo was about to stand up when he something caught his eye.
A small dribble of blood was meandering it's way down his fingers to fall into the crook of where they met his palm.
Blood?
Surely it had come from his injured shoulder. Not anywhere else.
A coughing fit seized the young hobbit, causing him to double over in an attempt to reclaim his breath before he fainted. This did nothing for his burning lungs and he weakly fell to his knees, his head sweaty spinning from lack of oxygen.
Finally, the fit left his tired and ragged body, leaving him gasping. His breath coming in wheezes and light coughs that worsened the pain in his shoulder. Frodo clutched at it, moaning and wondering how long before he was going to be left in peace.
Then Kingston's ears pricked up and he looked around with great interest in the Golden Wood. Suddenly he let loose a deep and loud shriek. He stood listening for a moment or two before letting loose another sound. It was as if a drum had been struck in the pony's throat and he had only realised how to strum it. Again he whinnied and this time Frodo took action.
"Kingston! Please!" he pleaded. "Be quiet. I do not need to be shot down with arrows, especially elf ones."
The pony didn't seem to hear him and kept up his act, all the while looking around with bright and alert eyes. The hobbit grabbed him by the reins and yanked his head down to his level. "Hold you tongue or we shall be in peril very soon." He released the reins and as soon as he had Kingston started whinnying.
Suddenly something caught his eye and he reared in fright, knocking Frodo to the ground.
In his blurry vision, he saw Kingston standing quietly and whinnying again and again. Then two slender figures knelt beside the fallen hobbit.
And that's when blackness took over.
Meanwhile . . . in a place not too far away . . .
(A/N: I know I left this way, way, WAY to late but I was getting bored with the storyline and so I changed it a little. I hope you people like it and if it's a bit flawed . . . well, DEAL with it. It's only fanfiction people!)
A gentle wind blew, making the leaves dance or shiver, whichever way you looked at it. And it made Athanasia breath in deeply just because she could and nothing could hold her back.
Her gray eyes scanned the surroundings in which she and her friend, Hesperos, now stood.
"Why, may I ask, have you brought me here." He huffed. He had never much liked Athanasia's adventurous side and he usually left and played with the other elf children when she showed it, but this time he decided to stick with her and see what came out of this.
"I heard the calling of a pony, he was calling to us, saying he and his friend needed help." She said this like she was waking from a dream.
"You are starting to sound like Galadriel you know that?"
Athanasia chose to ignore that comment, instead she continued on gently pushing aside branches and other things that crossed her and Hesperos's path.
"Are you SURE his voice carried all the way from here?"
"Yes! Why do you always insist on making my journeys difficult and hard to complete?" she said and turned to him.
Hesperos did not reply, instead he simply smiled and took her in his arms. "I fear for your safety and would forever hate myself if any harm were to come to you."
Then he kissed her.
So this was why he was always fidgety around her and seemed to be bursting from the inside out. He was in love with her.
The two were 1,867 years old, ancient in out time but just teenagers in there's and he'd loved her since he was born. No since before he was born.
Then a sound in the distance made them break apart. Each were breathing with pleasure and rather red in the face especially for an elf.
"You see," she whispered to him. "I did hear something."
"Yes, and I also see something." He breathed. "It is you and it will forever will be."
"We'll get back to this moment, I promise, but I feel that something is in need of our help."
With that, she sprung away and disappeared.
For a while they both ran to where the pony's cries were coming, then there was silence and with that urgent murmuring, then again the pony started it's frantic whinnying. A few seconds later Hesperos picked up a stone and threw it. There was a frightened shriek and silence, looking out they saw something. There, in the clearing, they found a pony and a dark shape at the it's hooves. At this the two elves walked out to where the pony stood quietly and waited for their help.
The dark shape at his hooves was that of a creature that had passed here only once. Immediately the two kneeled next to it.
"It is a child," murmured Hesperos, as he engrossed himself in the warfare of the 'child'. "And he is injured."
"Do you not listen to what the guardian Haldir teaches?" Athanasia smiled, at her friends foolishness. "This is a hobbit, all the way from the Shire. And by the looks of it, he looks as if he could be a member of Frodo Baggins. I have never asked why he and his companions were allowed to pass through the Golden Wood."
Hesperos continued to investigate Frodo's injuries further. "He is also severely fevered. I do not know how he has stayed in this world so long."
"Then we must hurry and fetch him help." Athanasia said standing up and brushing the soft dirt from her cloths. Without a second glance, she dashed into the forest with her friend crying after her.
"Noro lim, Athanasia. I do not know how much longer he can hold on for!"
Her feet softly pounded the damp earth and her breath was rythamtic with her running. She would make it in time, she couldn't say how she knew, she just did.
Seconds later she came to where she was intended to reach. Quietly, even for an elf, she scampered up the staires and reached the healing house.
"Vitaikin, are you home or am I talking to myself?" she whispered.
"I am home. But I think it is most humorous when you do." Came the voice of Vitaikin. He was a tall, slender elf, his black hair swept back into many brainds that covered his whole head, other elves thought the look to be strange and even a little unerving. But both Hesperos and Athanasia thought it to be a help if battle ever broke out.
"Vitaikin, remember that favor that you owe Herperos and I? Well, we may hav to use it now for we have a stranger at the edge of our very own woods and I fear that out Lady won't let him in. You must hurry for he is very ill and I am afraid he will no last very long."
While she was explaining everything her friend packed his supplies in a small knapsack that was woven from the softest cloth.
"By the descriptation of where this stranger lies I think I know of where he is. Now you mus stay here for I fear they will notice if the healing house is left empty, eventhough we never have use of it."
With that he left her standing there. Only she had another way out.
From the depths of her cloths she pulled out a golden necklace that had on it a ring.
A very familiar ring.
She quietly slipped on the piece of jewellery, disappeared and went after Vitaikin.
A Few Weeks Before . . .
"Now, what has caused you to walk out of the Golden Wood?" Athanasia asked herself as her feet traced the stones in the small stream. Her mind had been elsewhere and so, while following the stream, she soon found herself out of her beloved home.
It wasn't to far and she could retrace her steps back anyway so instead of panicking she enjoyed herself more. The sunlight was liquid and fingered Athanasia's face and arms and each time she tried to take hold of it, it simply melted and fell onto the streams clear and beautiful water. The fish made daring games of swimming up and nibbling her toes, in return they world receive a tickle on the belly which they delighted in, they would then jump out of the gurgling stream and land with a small 'splash'. To Athanasia this was heaven.
Then something golden caught her eye. She walked up to where the glint was and knelt beside it. She also noticed that the trout seemed to stay away from the object, which was strange because the ones in this stream were attracted to objects whether they be shiny and new or old and dull.
Leaning closer she also knoticed that it was a ring. So without thinking she plunged her hand in and snagged it.
It was warm.
That was the first thing she observed when it was sefetly in her palm. And also, even though it sounded silly and someptly impossible, it seemed to be murmuring some unknown language which sounded strange and . . . evil.
But how could a ring be evil.
Where were the fish? Athanasia looked around and noticed that no fish of any type was in the stream anymore. Standing up she realised that it was suddenly growing dark.
So pocketing the newly found treasure, she rushed on her unseen trail so she wouldn't get punished for being out at night.
She failed to notice that the sun and fish came back when she had all but disappeared from their sight.
TBC . . .
~*~
I would like to thank my friend Sarah Cooze for giving me the names of the three elf children. Sarah, you truly are: The Queen of Names.
I would also like to apologise for the spelling of Lembas, I found out I was spelling like: lambas and realised my error and NO I'm not going to change it in the other chapters.
And I need some ideas for the next chapter cause I'm running out. I'll dedicate the next chapter and use the idea that is choses.
And remember to REVIEW!!!!!!!!