Disclaimer: AU Story. Why don't I own Lord of the Rings? *sigh* Well, until
maybe the Tolkien family takes pity on me, I do not own any of the
characters or places mentioned in this story. Please don't sue me! I know I
am cruel to them but I swear I will try to save them. Hope you enjoy!
MagicalRachel: Aww, stop complaining. You're 18! You can drink! You can get married! And don't fret about the A. It'll just come to you like a big hug.
Shirebound: Hehe. Oho, I just live on evility. Evility, is that a word? Damn. Pippin knows. *elusion to Unofficial LOTR Script. I'm a walking advertisement! Stop taking away all my ideas! No, there is no antidote for the poison. But I will try to save Frodo! "We will fight for you-" even Ailsa Joy the evil authoress will. Meanie me!
Dizzy izzy: NNNNNNNNOOOOO!!!! A VERY LOUD REVIEW!!! YES, I AGREE DEPRESSING THINGS ARE VERY DEPRESSING. NOT TO MENTION UNFORGIVABLE!! I WILL NEVER BE DEPRESSING, MISTER FRODO!! WHO ON EARTH IS THE FROGGY KEYCHAIN OF DOOM? NEXT TIME, PLEASE DON'T MAKE YOUR REVIEWS SO LOUD AND SCARY! I AM EASILY INTIMIDATED! That is all. :-)
Yay! Angst!
~ Chapter Seventeen ~
"Do you think we can believe Frodo?" Boromir asked Aragorn as they walked.
"In his condition, probably not. He is likely to have some hallucinations and visions," the ranger replied but there was doubt in his voice. Sam was shaking his head vigorously.
"That's as maybe but that don't mean Mister Frodo's mind's been addled. And anyway, begging your pardon, Master Legolas, but didn't you say you saw a dwarf yourself?"
"I did," said Legolas, "I think Frodo was telling the truth. It would explain a lot of things. The dwarf was old. Very old by the look of him so I see no reason why it could not be Balin."
"A dwarf would never have allied with the enemy! Not a dwarf," Gimli protested. Aragorn stopped and spun round to face him. He grabbed his shoulder.
"Of course they would! The same as Saruman. The same as the Easterlings. A dwarf can be tempted to evil just the same!" he shouted. He stormed away to the end of the tunnel. Gimli hung his head and Legolas saw him blush with shame.
"He has had a hard time, Gimli. And he is very sensitive about- well, when Isildur fell to the power of the Ring. But I understand. I'm sure Aragorn does as well, truly," the elf comforted.
Ahead, Merry and Pippin were holding up Frodo on a crude stretcher formed out of staffs, sticks and bedrolls. They had insisted to carry him. It took only a few minutes to reach the junction again and there they waited. When The Fellowship had all joined them, Gandalf headed into the right hand corridor, holding his staff before him. The white light split the darkness to shreds, lighting up a long shaft of steps that curved round a central pillar. The hobbits were placed just behind Gandalf and they stumbled along, trying to keep their minds on the job at hand. They risked only little conversation so not to arouse tempers further.
"Merry," Pippin whispered, "Do you have any ideas?"
"For what?"
"To help Frodo."
"No."
"Oh."
"Do you?" Merry asked in a low voice.
"No," his cousin answered sadly.
They continued to walk in silence while, on his makeshift conveyor, Frodo was wracked with nightmares. Dark desolate plains on all sides while at the centre of it all was the Eye. Penetrating his flesh. Knowing that the Ring was in his hands. And he had nowhere to hide. Though he ran for miles there was nothing but grey sand and black stones. And all these thoughts kept coming to him. Thoughts that had never existed before. The death of Gandalf- fallen into the depths of Moria. Aragorn's face floating in dark marshes, Boromir, pinned to a tree with orc arrows. And Gimli, tumbling from a stony wall as swarms of Uruk-Hai screamed beneath him. Legolas being torn to pieces by Nazgul on winged beasts. Merry lying cold on a smooth white bed, motionless and quiet, a sword lain across his breast. Pippin, a shadow falling over him as a troll fell and crushed him. Bilbo, his oldest friend, consumed with grief and despair in a dark, cold room. And his devoted Samwise, what of him? Frodo searched his mind for anything. Any memories. But- they were all gone. It was as if Sam had never existed. Just a name in a void. But Frodo could remember being so happy with him. A friend.
"Why can't I remember?" he cried, falling to his knees. He scoured every pathway in his head, searching for the old memories but they were all gone. "Sam!" he screamed, holding his hands to his head. He could not picture his face. Was this death? To forget his dearest friend? It was almost more than he could bear. He lifted up the Ring to eye-level. "You cursed thing! You did this! You wretched, terrible Ring! Why could you not just let my heart be? You destroyed my world. I can never go back and all because of you! Well, I will be rid of you. Forever! What is the quest to me if I have nothing to save? All the people I ever cared about are gone! Because of you!" His voice cracked on the last word and he could feel the heat of his own face. The pain growing within him. He gripped the Ring in his fist and held it back at arm's length. Then, he threw it forward so that it hurtled on at the speed of light. He watched it fly across the scene until it passed out of sight. He broke down. Knowing now that all was at a loss. He was lost. Everyone was gone. All the people he loved and cared about had passed out of existence. This desert was his life now. His future stretching out like an ashen pathway, empty till the very last. Frodo curled up in the sand and tried to forget himself. The fool. The coward. And in his mind's eye he could see himself there. With nothing left to fight for. He could just die here. It would not matter. Who would care?
"They are all gone," he whispered. And he closed his eyes to the future, waiting for death. Would He even bother coming for someone who meant so little to the world?
The Fellowship reached the city of Dwarrowdelf at about noon of the fourth day. They were all tired of walking and so they only went on a little further. What awaited them was beyond any of their wildest imaginations (even Pippin's) Fluted pillars rose up in long towering lines. Rows and rows of watching giants.
"I think I will risk a little more light," murmured Gandalf and the light of his staff blazed white, filling the hall like water. It flowed in and out of the intricate carvings and along the crumbled walls and poured into the doors at the other side. They walked across the chamber in a trance- like state, gazing in awe at the beauty around them. Threads of gold intertwined with the light. But Legolas was oblivious to all of this. He was looking at Frodo. There was something wrong. Something missing. But the Ring was tight in his fist. And the only other thing he could think of was sound. The sound of breathing had suddenly dissipated. Legolas cried out and put a hand to the hobbits face. There was no breath! He began to shake him desperately.
"No! No, you cannot give up now! Please, Frodo, wake up!"
Merry and Pippin were looking alarmed now and they set the stretcher down. Sam came dashing over, Aragorn and Boromir close behind.
"What's the matter?" Sam cried. Legolas was holding his fingers to Frodo's neck and wrist. The pulse was so faint. Almost gone entirely.
"Frodo! Frodo!" He twisted round to Aragorn. "He is dying, Aragorn! He is really dying!"
~
Fat lot of use I was at helping.
MagicalRachel: Aww, stop complaining. You're 18! You can drink! You can get married! And don't fret about the A. It'll just come to you like a big hug.
Shirebound: Hehe. Oho, I just live on evility. Evility, is that a word? Damn. Pippin knows. *elusion to Unofficial LOTR Script. I'm a walking advertisement! Stop taking away all my ideas! No, there is no antidote for the poison. But I will try to save Frodo! "We will fight for you-" even Ailsa Joy the evil authoress will. Meanie me!
Dizzy izzy: NNNNNNNNOOOOO!!!! A VERY LOUD REVIEW!!! YES, I AGREE DEPRESSING THINGS ARE VERY DEPRESSING. NOT TO MENTION UNFORGIVABLE!! I WILL NEVER BE DEPRESSING, MISTER FRODO!! WHO ON EARTH IS THE FROGGY KEYCHAIN OF DOOM? NEXT TIME, PLEASE DON'T MAKE YOUR REVIEWS SO LOUD AND SCARY! I AM EASILY INTIMIDATED! That is all. :-)
Yay! Angst!
~ Chapter Seventeen ~
"Do you think we can believe Frodo?" Boromir asked Aragorn as they walked.
"In his condition, probably not. He is likely to have some hallucinations and visions," the ranger replied but there was doubt in his voice. Sam was shaking his head vigorously.
"That's as maybe but that don't mean Mister Frodo's mind's been addled. And anyway, begging your pardon, Master Legolas, but didn't you say you saw a dwarf yourself?"
"I did," said Legolas, "I think Frodo was telling the truth. It would explain a lot of things. The dwarf was old. Very old by the look of him so I see no reason why it could not be Balin."
"A dwarf would never have allied with the enemy! Not a dwarf," Gimli protested. Aragorn stopped and spun round to face him. He grabbed his shoulder.
"Of course they would! The same as Saruman. The same as the Easterlings. A dwarf can be tempted to evil just the same!" he shouted. He stormed away to the end of the tunnel. Gimli hung his head and Legolas saw him blush with shame.
"He has had a hard time, Gimli. And he is very sensitive about- well, when Isildur fell to the power of the Ring. But I understand. I'm sure Aragorn does as well, truly," the elf comforted.
Ahead, Merry and Pippin were holding up Frodo on a crude stretcher formed out of staffs, sticks and bedrolls. They had insisted to carry him. It took only a few minutes to reach the junction again and there they waited. When The Fellowship had all joined them, Gandalf headed into the right hand corridor, holding his staff before him. The white light split the darkness to shreds, lighting up a long shaft of steps that curved round a central pillar. The hobbits were placed just behind Gandalf and they stumbled along, trying to keep their minds on the job at hand. They risked only little conversation so not to arouse tempers further.
"Merry," Pippin whispered, "Do you have any ideas?"
"For what?"
"To help Frodo."
"No."
"Oh."
"Do you?" Merry asked in a low voice.
"No," his cousin answered sadly.
They continued to walk in silence while, on his makeshift conveyor, Frodo was wracked with nightmares. Dark desolate plains on all sides while at the centre of it all was the Eye. Penetrating his flesh. Knowing that the Ring was in his hands. And he had nowhere to hide. Though he ran for miles there was nothing but grey sand and black stones. And all these thoughts kept coming to him. Thoughts that had never existed before. The death of Gandalf- fallen into the depths of Moria. Aragorn's face floating in dark marshes, Boromir, pinned to a tree with orc arrows. And Gimli, tumbling from a stony wall as swarms of Uruk-Hai screamed beneath him. Legolas being torn to pieces by Nazgul on winged beasts. Merry lying cold on a smooth white bed, motionless and quiet, a sword lain across his breast. Pippin, a shadow falling over him as a troll fell and crushed him. Bilbo, his oldest friend, consumed with grief and despair in a dark, cold room. And his devoted Samwise, what of him? Frodo searched his mind for anything. Any memories. But- they were all gone. It was as if Sam had never existed. Just a name in a void. But Frodo could remember being so happy with him. A friend.
"Why can't I remember?" he cried, falling to his knees. He scoured every pathway in his head, searching for the old memories but they were all gone. "Sam!" he screamed, holding his hands to his head. He could not picture his face. Was this death? To forget his dearest friend? It was almost more than he could bear. He lifted up the Ring to eye-level. "You cursed thing! You did this! You wretched, terrible Ring! Why could you not just let my heart be? You destroyed my world. I can never go back and all because of you! Well, I will be rid of you. Forever! What is the quest to me if I have nothing to save? All the people I ever cared about are gone! Because of you!" His voice cracked on the last word and he could feel the heat of his own face. The pain growing within him. He gripped the Ring in his fist and held it back at arm's length. Then, he threw it forward so that it hurtled on at the speed of light. He watched it fly across the scene until it passed out of sight. He broke down. Knowing now that all was at a loss. He was lost. Everyone was gone. All the people he loved and cared about had passed out of existence. This desert was his life now. His future stretching out like an ashen pathway, empty till the very last. Frodo curled up in the sand and tried to forget himself. The fool. The coward. And in his mind's eye he could see himself there. With nothing left to fight for. He could just die here. It would not matter. Who would care?
"They are all gone," he whispered. And he closed his eyes to the future, waiting for death. Would He even bother coming for someone who meant so little to the world?
The Fellowship reached the city of Dwarrowdelf at about noon of the fourth day. They were all tired of walking and so they only went on a little further. What awaited them was beyond any of their wildest imaginations (even Pippin's) Fluted pillars rose up in long towering lines. Rows and rows of watching giants.
"I think I will risk a little more light," murmured Gandalf and the light of his staff blazed white, filling the hall like water. It flowed in and out of the intricate carvings and along the crumbled walls and poured into the doors at the other side. They walked across the chamber in a trance- like state, gazing in awe at the beauty around them. Threads of gold intertwined with the light. But Legolas was oblivious to all of this. He was looking at Frodo. There was something wrong. Something missing. But the Ring was tight in his fist. And the only other thing he could think of was sound. The sound of breathing had suddenly dissipated. Legolas cried out and put a hand to the hobbits face. There was no breath! He began to shake him desperately.
"No! No, you cannot give up now! Please, Frodo, wake up!"
Merry and Pippin were looking alarmed now and they set the stretcher down. Sam came dashing over, Aragorn and Boromir close behind.
"What's the matter?" Sam cried. Legolas was holding his fingers to Frodo's neck and wrist. The pulse was so faint. Almost gone entirely.
"Frodo! Frodo!" He twisted round to Aragorn. "He is dying, Aragorn! He is really dying!"
~
Fat lot of use I was at helping.