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. (Apart from Emáten) 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.

Fire Starter: Frightening name... Yay! I really hope you continue to enjoy this. Thank you so much for your review

Mistoffelees: Sorry that you lost the story- I'm very bad with plots- always twisting and confusing people. Sorry! But I'm pleased it returned. Whoa, scary Rosie or what?

Elf of Rivendell: Yeah, good old Bilbo. You his fan? I should start Bilbo torture! Mwa ha ha... I'm writing more, master, please don't strike us, precious!

Koko Kung: Yay for the piccy- am dying to see it. Forgive me! I did not mean to leave it so long. I think I died briefly at one point during the weekend...can't quite put my finger on why...think I crashed out and fell unconscious. But I'm rambling. Your story is not pitiful, man! It's a great idea. It's original and well written. I really want to see what happens! I've received two emails from "midnight-time". Yay!

ViNguyen: What are you all doing up at midnight? I can barely get up at midday let a lone the middle of the night! Chocolate *drools*... I'm going to need some for depression. The poor characters in my novel have all lapsed into deep lament, poor things and well, look at the Memories of Home guys. Not exactly the life and soul of the party, are they? Glad you enjoyed it!

Alatariel: Have you camped out in front of your computer? :-) I'm so pleased that you're having fun reading this. O, loyal one!

~ Chapter Twenty-Nine ~

The hobbits and Emáten set off early, before birdsong even touched the air. They crossed the rickety bridge and passed over onto the Greenway. Often they called Sam's name and let their voices echo like bells across the landscape. But there was little aside from the roadway stretching into the distance for miles and miles. Limp trees clung to the embankments on either side and a tangled archway of branches passed overhead.

"Emáten!" Merry called, "What is your horse's name?"

"Celon. Why?"

"Because he won't move. Does he accept bribes, perhaps?"

Smiling to himself, the man walked back and took Celon's reins. Gently, he coaxed the beast under the shadowy camber and led him out into the puckered sunlight.

Frodo was lost in thought. All the reasons. All the memories. It was like a great flood rolling and roaring in his head. He thought he might be free in the southlands. Free to discover who he was on his own. But the nightmares had defeated him. Worn him down to the weak, pathetic creature at his core. Frodo twitched and felt heat flare up within him. Not weak! There was no weakness!

"No!" he hissed. No, he could not let It claim him too. He felt as if he was being pulled in a hundred directions at once. Old, dusty memories that had lain untouched for years. Such ages had passed since the quest and the Fellowship. And now memories flooded back to him, bringing light and hate on their crested heads. Memories of home. He needed Sam more than ever. Either Sam or... Frodo faltered in his step. No! He could not fall to that siren call again. That terrifying wailing, screaming that rung in his head and wound into the very fissures of his mind. Wearing him down. But he had survived! He had succeeded! A light blazed in Frodo's eyes so strong and bright it was as fire burning. But not the same elvish light as so many others saw. The Ring sang its venomous song to him. With words in the Black Speech, words of the Dark Lord that echoed and resounded like a heartbeat. But to the hobbit, it was a sweet lullaby that soothed his tormented mind. He faltered again. Tears sprang to his eyes.

"I need you Sam. I can't do this without you," he whispered. The breath came laboured in his throat. Everything was tight. He had been free of this, for a few days. And before that...Frodo's face screwed up as he tried to force the memory to come to him. But still all he remembered was a long white beach. And days of sleep on a raft he had built himself. A gap between leaving the Grey Havens and returning to them. He swallowed hard. "Oh, Sam."

--

"Dear oh dear," Rosie muttered, yawning. She pulled the drawstrings on the pack tight and then passed it to Legolas. "There you are, sir. I've put in some bread, cheese, apples, walnuts..."

"You did not need to do all this!" the elf cried. He bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you for all your help. You have been just wonderful, milady." He put his face next to her ear and said in low tones, "And Gimli is very grateful too. Even though he does not show it."

Rosie blushed and nodded.

"Get on with you now, Master Legolas. Your friends are waiting. And remember, you be sure if you're ever passing through Hobbiton again, you drop in and I'll treat you to a great feast. Goodbye now! And give my love to Sam and Mister Frodo!"

Her last words were a shout as the friends departed from the round green door. Aragorn was almost in tears as he waved to the two hobbit children waving frantically from the dining room window.

"Bag End is truly greater than any palace I will ever know," he said. Legolas and Gimli nodded and all three of them let out a great sigh of disappointment as the green door closed behind them. They set off down the road, towards the Brandywine River, where they planned to follow it south to Sarn Ford.

"We can drop in on Merry and Pippin," Aragorn said delightedly.

When morning was late, they reached Merry's grand home and looked upon it with wonder.

"Merry...Merry the hobbit inherited this?" Gimli breathed.

"Apparently so," Aragorn replied faintly. He knocked on the door. There was some shuffling inside but no one came to greet them. The man knocked louder this time but to little avail. The noises went on until at last, after five attempts, the door was opened. It was a short, lank-haired hobbit with a glass in one hand.

"Hello?" he snapped irritably.

"Who are you?" Legolas cried.

"What are you doing in Master Meriadoc's house?" shouted Gimli in indignation.

"I am Delver and I am...um...looking after Meriadoc's house for him while he is away on business. Can I help you?"

"Why are all those other hobbits digging into those drawers then?" Aragorn asked, peering over Delver's shoulder. Delver pulled the door shut behind him.

"Friends of mine. Look, what do you want?"

"We actually wanted to see Master Meriadoc himself," Legolas intoned.

"Like I said, he's away. He and that lordly Took upped and left days ago. Went to see Frodo Baggins most likely and he's gone south. Did you hear that he's come back? After all these years. Lowly beggar. Goes off for months on some crackpot adventure and then comes back to drive away the perfect opportunity for industry then hangs around a year or two and then sails off! Always was a strange one and this proves it."

"Aragorn...!"

But there was a hiss of metal and Delver found himself backed into the doorpost at the point of a sword. Aragorn's face was a mask of fury.

"Crackpot adventure? Lowly beggar? You can never understand what Frodo went through! He sacrificed everything so he could save your lands and the lands of strangers. If it was not for Frodo, you would be toiling under the whips of Saruman and the Dark Lord. You owe him *everything*!"

Gimli cautiously put a hand on his friend's arm.

"It's alright, lad. Just leave him."

Aragorn drew back his blade and sheathed it again. But there was a lingering anger that still burned in him. Delver was clutching the place over his heart and had gone completely white. The companions left, following the path as it wound round to travel alongside the river. Soon, they were out of sight and Delver fair threw himself back inside and slammed the door shut.

~

This story is 36412 words long! More when this chapter is uploaded! And who inspired that? All my wonderful reviewers...I cannot thank you enough for how happy every single one of you make me.