Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Middle-Earth. I don't even own my
computer! All characters, locations, etc. belong to the Tolkien Estate.
A/N: MarigoldG, I know what you mean about missing the sense of Merry and Pippin. I'm going to try to work them into the next chapter though! :)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter VI
The entities in control of Frodos' body hoisted him into a sitting position, facing East. They proceeded to pull his knees to his chest, and rest his chin on them. The dark Shadows surveyed the horizon carefully as they looked out through Frodo's once bright eyes. The Shadows were drawing their dark forces to Frodo's body, to the Ring. They were calling for reinforcements; the hobbit had been resisting their power for too long now. They must do something soon or risk allowing the Ring to slip from their grasp yet again. He was so weak now that there was a chance they could succeed.
Aragorn walked the length of the cave, until he came to the Eastward facing ledge that Frodo's body was perched on. The Ranger did not speak; he feared that if he interrupted then the Shadows that dwelt within the ring-bearer's incapacitated body might cast Frodo off of the ledge, into the dark rocky ravine below. He listened closely, and he could hear the Shadows that possessed Frodo murmuring words in the Black Speech. Aragorn knew little in that tongue, but he could tell that they were summoning all of their strengths, in an attempt to finally overpower the hobbit. Aragorn hesitated a moment, weighing the consequences of his next action. If he didn't try to rouse Frodo from this trance, then Frodo could lose what little ground he had left, and perish. The Ring would be whisked away to Mordor, and all would be lost. If he advanced, and the Shadows used Frodo's body as a portal to channel their strength and evil through, then he himself could be overpowered by them… Aragorn could feel the silent battle raging before him; Frodo was trying his hardest to push the darkness out of his mind and body. Alas they were too many, and he was too weak. The Ranger made his decision with lightening quickness, and lunged at Frodo's body, grasping the ring-bearer around his small waist, and hauling him away from the ledge.
Aragorn carried a limp and unconscious Frodo back to the camp, hoping that the dark spirits within him had been expelled after having been discovered and interrupted. Aragorn did not hold out much hope for Frodo's survival at this point though. He was not breathing, and his lips were blue, his skin was like ice. Sam stood over Aragorn's shoulder. "Mister Strider?" Sam sobbed, "What's happening to my master? Why isn't he breathing?" Sam reached out to feel his Master's brow, and quickly withdrew from the coldness of it. Aragorn looked down at Sam, "Samwise, I am not exactly sure of what just happened. Frodo was fighting a battle within himself. The wound Frodo received at Weathertop has apparently begun to act as a gateway for the Shadows and darkness- Sauron's forces. The Morgul Knife introduced the poison to your Masters body, and has been weakening him ever since- waiting for it's chance to overpower him. He is now weak enough for the darkness to seep in and work with the poison of the Morgul Knife. Together they are working to make him to succumb to the darkness- to become a Wraith. Frodo fought hard, and he is very strong, but he is no match for them- especially in his condition. I do not believe that the darkness has won yet. But I can't be sure." Aragorn was careful not to let Sam hear fear in his voice; he didn't want the hobbit to panic.
After Aragorn finished speaking, the only sounds that could be heard were the noises of Merry and Pippin's light snoring, and the dripping of water inside the small cave. The seconds seemed to drag by like hours as Sam and Aragorn sat by Frodo's side, hoping that he would wake.
The heavy silence that had settled between the hobbit and the Ranger was broken by a cry. Frodo tried to raise himself to his elbows, but fell back to the ground trying to catch his breath, and nearly knocked the wind out of himself. He gasped in pain as Sam lurched forward to embrace him and accidentally jarred Frodo's wounded shoulder. "Oh Master! I'm so sorry I was not there with you… please forgive your Sam. I feared you dead. And, well, I am just so glad you're not!" Tears of happiness rolled down Sam's cheeks.
Frodo had broken out in a cold sweat; he blinked several times, trying to clear away the mist in front of his eyes. It had become thicker than it had ever been before. Frodo looked up at Sam and opened his mouth to speak. He was confused by Sam's reaction to his waking, and by what he had said before. "Don't try to speak Mister Frodo, just rest, you've been through an awful lot this evening. I'm here with you. Mister Strider is boiling more Athelas water, he'll be back in a few minutes." Frodo nodded and closed his eyes, for he was very tired. He wondered what had happened. One second he was lying on the cold cave floor… and then he had felt that awful blackness come on him again. The next thing Frodo knew, he was lying next to the campfire with Sam and Aragorn kneeling on either side of him. Frodo began to shiver, and Sam piled blankets on him. "Thank you Sam… I- I'm so very cold." Frodo knew the blankets would only help to a certain degree, but he didn't speak of it to Sam- it would only worry the poor hobbit more. Frodo winced as he shifted under the blankets. His whole body ached as if horses had trampled him. He wondered what had happened to him while he had been unconscious. Every time the darkness overcame Frodo he could feel that the life had been sapped from his body. His shoulder throbbed, and his vision blurred, looking upon the light of the campfire caused him great pain. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to focus on something other than the pain. Sam could tell that his Master was hurting and leant down and kissed Frodo's cold forehead and spoke soothingly to him, "Shh Mister Frodo, hang in there. Your Sam's here for you. Rest now."
Aragorn returned with the steaming Athelas water. Frodo tried to stifle a cry as the steaming wet cloth came in contact with his aching shoulder; he gripped Sam's hand tightly with his own. Aragorn spoke to the sick ring- bearer, "It's alright Frodo, just give the Athleas a few minutes to work. Calm down and try to get some sleep. Sam and I will take turns sitting with you, so you won't be alone. Hang in there, Frodo." Frodo nodded, and tried to relax. He could feel his breaths beginning to come easier as he inhaled the pleasant scent of the Atlehas water. But Frodo's thoughts kept drifting back to the Ring. He brought his right hand up to his neck slowly, and clasped his hand around the Ring that lay there on a chain. Frodo had almost begun to embrace the darkness when it came; he knew no pain when he was possessed by it. All of his cares were forgotten… but it was so awful when he finally did come out of it. It was almost as if the darkness was teasing him. Tempting him to give in to it. Promising him a painless carefree existence. And yet he fought it, he was well aware of the empty promises that evil often presented. He knew he must hold on to life and bear the pain and cold for as long as it took, he only doubted his physical strength and ability to hold out. Frodo knew that if he did not give in to it willingly, it would eventually take him by force.
Frodo felt someone holding a cup to his lips; he took a few swallows of the cool water, and then drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Strider could tell by the sound of Frodo's breathing, that the Athelas had helped him some. The ring-bearer was now resting, as peacefully as could be expected. Sam moved closer to his beloved Master, and stroked Frodo's brown curls softly. Tears threatened to come to Sam's eyes, "Mister Strider?" Sam questioned shakily. Aragorn heard the tone of Sam's voice, and replied as gently as possible, "What is it Samwise?" Sam swallowed and asked, "My Master… he's going to… die, isn't he?" Sam couldn't believe he was asking such a question. But he was beginning to doubt what Aragorn had said a few days earlier.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
A/N: I hope that chapter was a little longer than the others have been. :) Thanks for reading!
A/N: MarigoldG, I know what you mean about missing the sense of Merry and Pippin. I'm going to try to work them into the next chapter though! :)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter VI
The entities in control of Frodos' body hoisted him into a sitting position, facing East. They proceeded to pull his knees to his chest, and rest his chin on them. The dark Shadows surveyed the horizon carefully as they looked out through Frodo's once bright eyes. The Shadows were drawing their dark forces to Frodo's body, to the Ring. They were calling for reinforcements; the hobbit had been resisting their power for too long now. They must do something soon or risk allowing the Ring to slip from their grasp yet again. He was so weak now that there was a chance they could succeed.
Aragorn walked the length of the cave, until he came to the Eastward facing ledge that Frodo's body was perched on. The Ranger did not speak; he feared that if he interrupted then the Shadows that dwelt within the ring-bearer's incapacitated body might cast Frodo off of the ledge, into the dark rocky ravine below. He listened closely, and he could hear the Shadows that possessed Frodo murmuring words in the Black Speech. Aragorn knew little in that tongue, but he could tell that they were summoning all of their strengths, in an attempt to finally overpower the hobbit. Aragorn hesitated a moment, weighing the consequences of his next action. If he didn't try to rouse Frodo from this trance, then Frodo could lose what little ground he had left, and perish. The Ring would be whisked away to Mordor, and all would be lost. If he advanced, and the Shadows used Frodo's body as a portal to channel their strength and evil through, then he himself could be overpowered by them… Aragorn could feel the silent battle raging before him; Frodo was trying his hardest to push the darkness out of his mind and body. Alas they were too many, and he was too weak. The Ranger made his decision with lightening quickness, and lunged at Frodo's body, grasping the ring-bearer around his small waist, and hauling him away from the ledge.
Aragorn carried a limp and unconscious Frodo back to the camp, hoping that the dark spirits within him had been expelled after having been discovered and interrupted. Aragorn did not hold out much hope for Frodo's survival at this point though. He was not breathing, and his lips were blue, his skin was like ice. Sam stood over Aragorn's shoulder. "Mister Strider?" Sam sobbed, "What's happening to my master? Why isn't he breathing?" Sam reached out to feel his Master's brow, and quickly withdrew from the coldness of it. Aragorn looked down at Sam, "Samwise, I am not exactly sure of what just happened. Frodo was fighting a battle within himself. The wound Frodo received at Weathertop has apparently begun to act as a gateway for the Shadows and darkness- Sauron's forces. The Morgul Knife introduced the poison to your Masters body, and has been weakening him ever since- waiting for it's chance to overpower him. He is now weak enough for the darkness to seep in and work with the poison of the Morgul Knife. Together they are working to make him to succumb to the darkness- to become a Wraith. Frodo fought hard, and he is very strong, but he is no match for them- especially in his condition. I do not believe that the darkness has won yet. But I can't be sure." Aragorn was careful not to let Sam hear fear in his voice; he didn't want the hobbit to panic.
After Aragorn finished speaking, the only sounds that could be heard were the noises of Merry and Pippin's light snoring, and the dripping of water inside the small cave. The seconds seemed to drag by like hours as Sam and Aragorn sat by Frodo's side, hoping that he would wake.
The heavy silence that had settled between the hobbit and the Ranger was broken by a cry. Frodo tried to raise himself to his elbows, but fell back to the ground trying to catch his breath, and nearly knocked the wind out of himself. He gasped in pain as Sam lurched forward to embrace him and accidentally jarred Frodo's wounded shoulder. "Oh Master! I'm so sorry I was not there with you… please forgive your Sam. I feared you dead. And, well, I am just so glad you're not!" Tears of happiness rolled down Sam's cheeks.
Frodo had broken out in a cold sweat; he blinked several times, trying to clear away the mist in front of his eyes. It had become thicker than it had ever been before. Frodo looked up at Sam and opened his mouth to speak. He was confused by Sam's reaction to his waking, and by what he had said before. "Don't try to speak Mister Frodo, just rest, you've been through an awful lot this evening. I'm here with you. Mister Strider is boiling more Athelas water, he'll be back in a few minutes." Frodo nodded and closed his eyes, for he was very tired. He wondered what had happened. One second he was lying on the cold cave floor… and then he had felt that awful blackness come on him again. The next thing Frodo knew, he was lying next to the campfire with Sam and Aragorn kneeling on either side of him. Frodo began to shiver, and Sam piled blankets on him. "Thank you Sam… I- I'm so very cold." Frodo knew the blankets would only help to a certain degree, but he didn't speak of it to Sam- it would only worry the poor hobbit more. Frodo winced as he shifted under the blankets. His whole body ached as if horses had trampled him. He wondered what had happened to him while he had been unconscious. Every time the darkness overcame Frodo he could feel that the life had been sapped from his body. His shoulder throbbed, and his vision blurred, looking upon the light of the campfire caused him great pain. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to focus on something other than the pain. Sam could tell that his Master was hurting and leant down and kissed Frodo's cold forehead and spoke soothingly to him, "Shh Mister Frodo, hang in there. Your Sam's here for you. Rest now."
Aragorn returned with the steaming Athelas water. Frodo tried to stifle a cry as the steaming wet cloth came in contact with his aching shoulder; he gripped Sam's hand tightly with his own. Aragorn spoke to the sick ring- bearer, "It's alright Frodo, just give the Athleas a few minutes to work. Calm down and try to get some sleep. Sam and I will take turns sitting with you, so you won't be alone. Hang in there, Frodo." Frodo nodded, and tried to relax. He could feel his breaths beginning to come easier as he inhaled the pleasant scent of the Atlehas water. But Frodo's thoughts kept drifting back to the Ring. He brought his right hand up to his neck slowly, and clasped his hand around the Ring that lay there on a chain. Frodo had almost begun to embrace the darkness when it came; he knew no pain when he was possessed by it. All of his cares were forgotten… but it was so awful when he finally did come out of it. It was almost as if the darkness was teasing him. Tempting him to give in to it. Promising him a painless carefree existence. And yet he fought it, he was well aware of the empty promises that evil often presented. He knew he must hold on to life and bear the pain and cold for as long as it took, he only doubted his physical strength and ability to hold out. Frodo knew that if he did not give in to it willingly, it would eventually take him by force.
Frodo felt someone holding a cup to his lips; he took a few swallows of the cool water, and then drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Strider could tell by the sound of Frodo's breathing, that the Athelas had helped him some. The ring-bearer was now resting, as peacefully as could be expected. Sam moved closer to his beloved Master, and stroked Frodo's brown curls softly. Tears threatened to come to Sam's eyes, "Mister Strider?" Sam questioned shakily. Aragorn heard the tone of Sam's voice, and replied as gently as possible, "What is it Samwise?" Sam swallowed and asked, "My Master… he's going to… die, isn't he?" Sam couldn't believe he was asking such a question. But he was beginning to doubt what Aragorn had said a few days earlier.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
A/N: I hope that chapter was a little longer than the others have been. :) Thanks for reading!