Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.

Lil*bee: Hehe *blush* T'ank oo! Glad you're enjoying it!

Radia: Nah, lots of people haven't read the book. I forced myself to read it before the movies and it had been running round the house, screaming, crying and laughing at the same time. Trust me, that *really* scared my parents. Don't worry, there will be lots of Aragorn and Frodo scenes to come. The heroes together. Ahh

Holly Wood: I thought people would be annoyed that this was only the beginning! It is going to be a long fic- longer than any other project - to boldly go where no other has gone before - it may even be in parts! Yay! I am so pleased you like Sam!

Crazytook: I really look forward to your reviews! I know, poor old Ematen, I give him such a hard time. He's just eager to please. And maybe Frodo will get more memories when he mates arrives. Hehe

????: OK, I'll do just that. Mental note: More Rosie and Frodo. I never saw her as resentful of him. I mean, I reckon she's bright enough to know that Frodo did not drag Sam out to Mordor and that Sam went of his own accord- d'aw, that part gave me chills! Shame you didn't like the movie Faramir. I thought that was a nice touch. But yeah, I'm trying to make all the characters more book-y. I'll stick to your request on that one. And by the way, your ramblings make my day!

Truefan: *stares at review* Whoa. That is a long review, man. D'aw, poor old Dylan- I didn't say I liked Morgan better- just the name. And why doesn't he know who Ailsa is?! Dear oh dear. And I'm writing, writing! Er...Write like the...longshore drift, Ailsa! *hits head until Geography topples out of ear and onto keyboard- Ailsa picks up mallet and smashes it- Ailsa smiles (revealing fangs) and continues to write*

Thank you so much for the reviews everybody! They have all been especially nice recently! Note: When it says- "And-read this part-" look away all those who have not read the book until the extract ends. I do not want to spoil that part for any reader. Just telling you now that it is a hell of a nasty extract.

~ Chapter Twelve ~

Storm was brewing. The autumnal storms that boiled in the sky and turned the clouds black. This was threatening to be the sort of weather that drowned ships, uprooted trees, tore the landscape to shreads. The sort of weather that rumbled and crashed and made you quake to even leave the door of your home. The sort of weather that made you fear for your life.

--

The rider departed from Mirkwood by the morning light. He was carrying a carefully bound and signed scroll in his saddle bag at his side. The elves watched him until his horse had dipped out of sight.

Legolas and Gimli were silently reading in the royal chambers. The prince sitting straight-backed against the tree that broke through the floor and the dwarf trying vainly to get comfortable on one of the thrones. Legolas had There and Back Again open on his lap, his eyes flicking over his favourite paragraph in the story. He had read the battered volume perhaps five times now and still this part jumped out at him.

^ 'Good morning!' said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.

'What do you mean?' he said. 'Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?'

'All of them at once,' said Bilbo. 'And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!' ^

He smiled to himself. He wished he had met Bilbo. Before he passed over the seas and out of all knowledge. He was certainly a talented writer! And linguist. And cousin. Legolas let out a sigh and closed the book with a quick snap. Bilbo must have been a wonderful "uncle" for Frodo, he thought wistfully. To bring up such an extraordinary child into someone so strong and compassionate. When looked upon, it really did seem quite incredible. Gimli snorted and the elf glanced up. He was squirming uncomfortably in his seat, his own book discarded on the floor.

"Gimli," Legolas grinned as he went to retrieve the copy. He picked it up and paused to look at the title.

"I found it," the dwarf said proudly, straightening up, "In the library. Your father said it had just arrived from Minas Tirith."

"Really? What is it about?"

"It is our story, Legolas," was the strange reply. Legolas looked up, frowning.

"What do you mean 'our story'?" he asked in puzzlement.

Gimli smirked and climbed down to take the book from his hands. He flipped through until he found the page he wanted. It read: The Fellowship of the Ring.

"The Fellowship," Legolas breathed, touching the words lightly with his fingers as if they were made of mithril. "They- they wrote it all down? Our journey?"

"From even before that. Bilbo's adventure comes before and then comes ours. I found out all that happened before we met up with the hobbits. They truly met almost every peril. I read everything! About Moria, Lórien and...what happened after Frodo and Sam left us. It was terrible. Emyn Muil, Ithilien. And- read this part..."

Legolas put his eyes to the page and, half to himself, read the excerpt aloud.

" Frodo gave a cry, and there he was, fallen upon his knees at the chasm's edge. But Gollum, dancing like a mad thing, held aloft the ring, a finger still thrust within its circle. It shone now as if verily it was wrought of living fire... And then at last over the miles between there came a rumble, rising to a deafening crash and roar; the earth shook, the plain heaved and cracked, and Orodruin reeled. Fire blenched from its riven summit. The skies burst into thunder seared with lightning... 'Your poor hand!' Sam said. 'And I have nothing to bind it with, or comfort it. I would have spared him a whole hand of mine rather. But he's gone now beyond recall, gone for ever.'

'Yes,' said Frodo. 'But do you remember Gandalf's words: Even Gollum may have something yet to do? But for him, Sam, I could not have destroyed the Ring. The Quest would have been in vain, even at the bitter end. So let us forgive him! For the Quest is achieved, and now all is over. I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.'"

The friends looked at each other. This brought it truly home to them what the hobbits had gone through. After the War, they had seen Frodo, awake and smiling, with nothing but faint tell-tale injuries to remind them of his suffering. But they could not have seen what went on inside his head. That burning wheel that forever twisted and glowed that, its shadow deeply imprinted into his mind. An orb of powerful light that cast doubt over his soul and broke his very spirit. That was why he left. That was why he sought for peace in The Undying Lands.

--

Osgiliath was teeming with life. Not only had the king entered once into their city but now the Queen herself had also come. Faramir put up a hand and let the pale fingers enclose around his. Arwen gracefully slipped from her horse's back and dropped to the ground, shaking out her long ebony hair. Before Faramir could speak, she said,

"Captain Faramir, I know that the lord Elessar has left the city." She smiled. "He would already be at my side asking questions if he was."

"So you have heard the news?" the man replied. Arwen nodded. But her face showed little happiness at the reminder.

"I have heard," she said, "But I do not yet know if I will go to the Shire."

"My lady?"

"Frodo will remember little. The Endless Sea has lifted many troubles from his shoulders. They are not gone. They are not forgotten. But many things- people, places- will be hard for him to remember. I do not think it wise to relive too many memories at one time. I do not think that Aragorn should have gone."

"Why ever not?" cried Faramir. Arwen turned and started walking along the path beside the river. She stopped at one point to gaze into the iced over waters. Silver trails criss-crossed at the edges and a faint mist was rising across its clear surface.

"Because," she said softly, "He will remember the Ring."