To all -
Aelfgifu - Yes, the woods are creepy at night. Creepy woods, nasty villain, scared Frodo! Thanks for the idea about the blindfold. Everyone seems to like it - except for Frodo, of course!
Endymion - Is Frodo's only chance playing for time and relying on the wits of his friends? Perhaps. A little good luck wouldn't hurt him either!
TTTurtle - Thanks for joining us! Yes, Frodo's in a spot, all right! As for helping Sam find him, let's just say a needle in a haystack can be trouble enough to find when you know which haystack it's in! Updates will happen every couple of days or so, so stick around!
Camellia Gamgee Took - You want more? You got it! A smaller chapter this time, but the next will be longer, I promise!
Aratlithiel - Yes, I let Frodo depend upon the hands of his dangerous enemy to guide him to Bywater safely. Safely???? Hmmm.
FrodoBaggins1982 - That's the Baggins spirit, all right. Frodo might be scared, but he's still fighting. Meanwhile, something's rotten in Denmark. I mean Hobbiton!
Seregon - Glad you're enjoying the psychological aspect of the story. I designed Bramblethorn to be the type who enjoys a contest of wills. I'd say he's got one! And you're not the only one who has commented on Frodo's defiance in this fic. There's a cheering section forming with big "Go Frodo!" signs.
The Way of Vengeance Chapter 5 - Arrivals and Discoveries
Merry and Pippin rode together, each astride a sturdy Shire pony. They were nearly to Hobbiton and Bag End, and just in time for elevenses. Frodo wasn't expecting them until luncheon, but he never minded when they arrived a little early.
Pippin looked over at Merry with an expression that said something had just occurred to him. "Merry, why do you suppose cousin Frodo has never gotten himself a pony?" Pippin's seemingly endless supply of curiosity was bubbling to the surface again as he prompted the hobbit who rode beside him.
"Well, Pip," Merry began, as he considered the question. "I would suppose that he likes to walk, just like Bilbo always did." This seemed plausible, since Bilbo had been known for taking long walks through the Shire, some of which took him away from Bag End for several days. He would often take Frodo with him on those excursions, and the younger Baggins seemed to enjoy the trips as much as his uncle.
"Maybe so," Pippin conceded. "But it's a very long walk between Bag End and Buckland, Merry."
"And that's why I have a pony," Merry said, smiling. Not that he minded a good walk either, but it was nice to arrive at his cousin's home without being too weary from the journey to enjoy himself.
The round green door of Bag End came into view, and the rest of Bagshot Row besides. All was green and peaceful this lazy summer morning, with a light breeze carrying the scent of roses and fresh grass trimmings. Pippin and Merry dismounted and met Sam as he came walking up from the garden.
"Hello, Sam!" Pippin's voice lilted across the garden as Sam walked to the front gate.
"Hullo, Mr. Pippin, Mr. Merry." Sam nodded and smiled. "Pleasant journey?"
"None better, Sam," Merry answered, grinning. He had always liked Sam, finding him to be a refreshing change from some of the stuffy hobbits at Brandy Hall. With Sam, you knew where you stood, he mused. No foolish airs, no contrivance. No wonder Frodo was so fond of him.
"I'll take your ponies around back and get them properly stabled," Sam said as he took the reins. The ponies followed him obediently, one of them nosing at Sam's hand slightly in hopes of finding a concealed sugar cube or carrot.
Merry rapped smartly on the door while Pippin rang the bell for good measure. It was their established method of letting Frodo know that they had both arrived. In the past, Frodo had teased them about arriving amidst a clatter fit to rouse all of the Westfarthing. A few moments went by without Frodo appearing at the door to greet them.
Merry frowned slightly and pulled on the bell again while Pippin gave him an odd look. "You don't suppose Frodo is ill, do you Merry? He's usually awake in time for elevenses, even if he does sometimes sleep through first and second breakfast."
"I don't know, Pip," Merry responded. "I certainly hope he isn't."
Sam had finished with the ponies and returned to the front steps to find Merry and Pippin still waiting with perplexed looks on their faces. "Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously.
"We've rung the bell twice and Frodo hasn't answered," Merry replied, looking perplexed. "Is he still asleep by any chance?"
It was Sam's turn to frown. "I wouldn't think so, Mr. Merry. It just ain't Mr. Frodo's way to be abed quite so late in the day, not with company comin'." Come to think of it, Sam realized he hadn't seen Frodo yet that morning either. Usually Frodo would call to him and wave good morning from the window. Sam tried the doorknob, and the door swung open easily. They all glanced at each other, and Merry took a hesitant step forward. The parlor was neat and tidy, with no visible sign of anything amiss.
"Frodo?" He called. "It's Merry! Pip and I have arrived, cousin!" Only silence answered him.
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam called apprehensively as he walked further down the hallway to check in the study. Perhaps Frodo was absorbed in a book or manuscript and just wasn't paying attention. The study was empty. This was extremely odd! Mr. Frodo knew Merry and Pippin were to arrive that day, and he was prepared for them. Why would he not be ready at hand when his cousins rang the bell?
Sam walked toward the bedroom with a growing knot of apprehension forming in his stomach. Was his master not feeling well? What if he were ill and had fallen, and Sam had been whistling away blithely in the garden the entire time? ~Ninnyhammer!~ Sam thought to himself. He should have checked on Mr. Frodo himself that morning, just for good measure.
He stepped into the bedroom, half expecting to see Frodo nestled against the pillows, a feverish blush blooming in his cheeks. His eyes widened in shock as he noted that the bed appeared to have not been slept in. Something on the dresser caught his eye. A candle in a small silver candleholder had been allowed to burn all the way down to a mere puddle of melted wax.
Merry and Pippin joined Sam in the doorway. Looks of confusion and concern passed from one hobbit to the next for a moment. Nobody spoke. Feeling a sense of dread he couldn't easily explain, Sam suddenly bolted from the room and through the front door, into the bright morning sunshine.
"Mr. Frodo!" He called out, his voice edged with a combination of fear and worry. The only thing he heard in answer were the birds in the trees and the bees buzzing in the flowers by the gate. There had to be an explanation for Frodo's absence, but for the life of him, Sam couldn't think of what it might be.
"Sam?" Merry had come to stand by his side and Pippin was right behind. Merry looked at his cousin's gardener and waited for him to answer.
"I don't know what's goin' on, Mr. Merry," he said, looking up the road with a strange expression on his face. "But I don't like it, and that's a fact." He continued to gaze up the road, a memory playing itself over and over again in his mind.
His thoughts returned to another sunny day when he couldn't find Frodo. At that time, Sam had good reason for his worry, what with that beast Bramblethorn about, and Mr. Frodo's nervous behavior. All that was over now, and life at Bag End had long since returned to normal.
When he broke away from his reverie, Sam realized it was the same hollow feeling he felt now, like something had knocked the wind out of him. He could feel his heart pounding and his hands were sweating. He had involuntarily clenched them into fists, his knuckles whitening.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Sam could feel it in his bones, the way the old-timers claimed to feel an approaching rainstorm. He could sense it in the sudden emptiness around him, the way the sun on the back of his neck suddenly didn't feel warm anymore and every sound around him was magnified as if to fill a silence that should not exist.
~*~
Sam, Merry and Pippin had decided to spread out and start searching Hobbiton and the surrounding area. They started with the places Frodo was known to frequent, which were mainly parts of the countryside, rather than the town itself. Frodo had a quiet, somewhat solitary way about him, and was prone to wandering in the countryside or slipping away somewhere quiet with a good book.
It was possible that Frodo had taken a morning walk and met with some accident along his route. If so, perhaps they would find him by walking and calling for him.
Sam started with the place that came to mind immediately, the secluded wood by the little stream near Bag End. It was the place where he had found Frodo that day two years before, and just in time by the look of things.
As he walked down the dusty road, Sam prayed that he was not too late this time. Two years ago, he had noticed Frodo's absence in a timely manner, and had acted immediately. This time he feared a great deal more time had passed. The last he had seen of Frodo was at supper the previous evening.
Sam considered all the pieces of the puzzle so far. There was the candle in the bedroom, burned down to nothing, and the neat, unrumpled state of the bedclothes. If there was a candle burning on the dresser, that meant Frodo had at least been in the bedroom, even if he hadn't gone to sleep. But Frodo simply wasn't careless enough to leave a candle burning unattended in a room. Sam shook his head. It all meant something, he was certain, but too many pieces were still missing from the puzzle.
And Frodo was missing as well, Sam thought as he searched along the wooded path. All Sam could think of was that he had failed. He had sworn to watch over his master and friend, but had obviously been caught napping. Kicking himself wouldn't cause Frodo to miraculously appear before him safe and whole, he admonished himself. Best to keep his mind focused upon the task at hand.
Calling Frodo's name as he went, Sam listened closely for an answer or any sound that might indicate someone in distress, but all that met his ears were the calls of birds and the sound of a light breeze rustling the leaves overhead.
The wood was empty. This time, there was no leather-bound book lying in fallen leaves, no voices rising from the thickets to lead him. There was nothing but trees and rocks, streams and sunlight. Only the things that belonged there, plus one fear driven hobbit searching desperately for someone he loved.
And what he felt for Frodo was most certainly love. Sam could find no other word to express it. Frodo's absence left him bereft of light, without enough air to breathe. He felt as if a part of him had suddenly disappeared. Was that what it meant to love someone? To be unable see, or think, or breathe without them nearby?
~Mr. Frodo, I swear if I find you I will tell you,~ Sam thought. ~I will tell you that you're my sun and stars and that there is no light without you.~
Sam walked on through the woods, his desperate search turning up nothing. He wondered how Merry and Pippin were faring.
~*~
"Frodo!" Merry called as he walked along a lonely road between two small farms. He got no answer, but kept walking and calling anyway. Surely Frodo must be somewhere nearby! This road led to, among other places, a hillside that afforded a wonderful view of much of the surrounding area. It was a favorite haunt of Frodo's.
Merry was hoping Frodo had gone for a walk and paused to rest upon the hill. It would be easy for one to be lulled into sleep by the warm sunshine on such a morning, and his cousin might very well have lain down in the grass for a moment and fallen asleep instead.
Reaching the top of the hill, Merry surveyed the countryside around him. Frodo was nowhere to be seen. The day was passing swiftly, Merry thought apprehensively. In a little while, he would have to head back to Bag End to see if Sam or Pippin had brought any news. If their search of the countryside failed to turn up any clues, they would start checking in town. If any of the folk there had seen Frodo in the last 24 hours, they might at least have some place to begin. Right now, he felt like he was searching for a single pebble among all the pebbles at the bottom of the Brandywine.
~*~
Pippin followed the stream as it wandered along its narrow rocky course, wending its way through the trees. His objective was a pond a short distance away. He, Sam and Merry had tried to think of all of the peaceful places Frodo liked most, and the pond was a good bet. He and Frodo had spent some hot summer afternoons swimming in the cool, shallow waters when Pippin had been a younger lad.
Upon reaching the little pond, Pippin called again for Frodo and listened. No answer. So far, there was no sign of his cousin. Pippin wasn't given to worrying a great deal about things, but he was beginning to feel worried about Frodo. His cousin was so responsible! Never before had he failed to be present to greet them on a visit, and he was never unduly late in arriving at the Great Smials or Brandy Hall when it was his turn to journey forth.
Pippin sighed, feeling defeated. He hoped the others had found more than he had. A thought came to him and his expression brightened again. Maybe Frodo was already back at Bag End waiting for them with some interesting tale to tell of the day's events, and wondering where they had been. Holding to that hope, he started back toward Bagshot Row.
~*~To be continued~*~
Aelfgifu - Yes, the woods are creepy at night. Creepy woods, nasty villain, scared Frodo! Thanks for the idea about the blindfold. Everyone seems to like it - except for Frodo, of course!
Endymion - Is Frodo's only chance playing for time and relying on the wits of his friends? Perhaps. A little good luck wouldn't hurt him either!
TTTurtle - Thanks for joining us! Yes, Frodo's in a spot, all right! As for helping Sam find him, let's just say a needle in a haystack can be trouble enough to find when you know which haystack it's in! Updates will happen every couple of days or so, so stick around!
Camellia Gamgee Took - You want more? You got it! A smaller chapter this time, but the next will be longer, I promise!
Aratlithiel - Yes, I let Frodo depend upon the hands of his dangerous enemy to guide him to Bywater safely. Safely???? Hmmm.
FrodoBaggins1982 - That's the Baggins spirit, all right. Frodo might be scared, but he's still fighting. Meanwhile, something's rotten in Denmark. I mean Hobbiton!
Seregon - Glad you're enjoying the psychological aspect of the story. I designed Bramblethorn to be the type who enjoys a contest of wills. I'd say he's got one! And you're not the only one who has commented on Frodo's defiance in this fic. There's a cheering section forming with big "Go Frodo!" signs.
The Way of Vengeance Chapter 5 - Arrivals and Discoveries
Merry and Pippin rode together, each astride a sturdy Shire pony. They were nearly to Hobbiton and Bag End, and just in time for elevenses. Frodo wasn't expecting them until luncheon, but he never minded when they arrived a little early.
Pippin looked over at Merry with an expression that said something had just occurred to him. "Merry, why do you suppose cousin Frodo has never gotten himself a pony?" Pippin's seemingly endless supply of curiosity was bubbling to the surface again as he prompted the hobbit who rode beside him.
"Well, Pip," Merry began, as he considered the question. "I would suppose that he likes to walk, just like Bilbo always did." This seemed plausible, since Bilbo had been known for taking long walks through the Shire, some of which took him away from Bag End for several days. He would often take Frodo with him on those excursions, and the younger Baggins seemed to enjoy the trips as much as his uncle.
"Maybe so," Pippin conceded. "But it's a very long walk between Bag End and Buckland, Merry."
"And that's why I have a pony," Merry said, smiling. Not that he minded a good walk either, but it was nice to arrive at his cousin's home without being too weary from the journey to enjoy himself.
The round green door of Bag End came into view, and the rest of Bagshot Row besides. All was green and peaceful this lazy summer morning, with a light breeze carrying the scent of roses and fresh grass trimmings. Pippin and Merry dismounted and met Sam as he came walking up from the garden.
"Hello, Sam!" Pippin's voice lilted across the garden as Sam walked to the front gate.
"Hullo, Mr. Pippin, Mr. Merry." Sam nodded and smiled. "Pleasant journey?"
"None better, Sam," Merry answered, grinning. He had always liked Sam, finding him to be a refreshing change from some of the stuffy hobbits at Brandy Hall. With Sam, you knew where you stood, he mused. No foolish airs, no contrivance. No wonder Frodo was so fond of him.
"I'll take your ponies around back and get them properly stabled," Sam said as he took the reins. The ponies followed him obediently, one of them nosing at Sam's hand slightly in hopes of finding a concealed sugar cube or carrot.
Merry rapped smartly on the door while Pippin rang the bell for good measure. It was their established method of letting Frodo know that they had both arrived. In the past, Frodo had teased them about arriving amidst a clatter fit to rouse all of the Westfarthing. A few moments went by without Frodo appearing at the door to greet them.
Merry frowned slightly and pulled on the bell again while Pippin gave him an odd look. "You don't suppose Frodo is ill, do you Merry? He's usually awake in time for elevenses, even if he does sometimes sleep through first and second breakfast."
"I don't know, Pip," Merry responded. "I certainly hope he isn't."
Sam had finished with the ponies and returned to the front steps to find Merry and Pippin still waiting with perplexed looks on their faces. "Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously.
"We've rung the bell twice and Frodo hasn't answered," Merry replied, looking perplexed. "Is he still asleep by any chance?"
It was Sam's turn to frown. "I wouldn't think so, Mr. Merry. It just ain't Mr. Frodo's way to be abed quite so late in the day, not with company comin'." Come to think of it, Sam realized he hadn't seen Frodo yet that morning either. Usually Frodo would call to him and wave good morning from the window. Sam tried the doorknob, and the door swung open easily. They all glanced at each other, and Merry took a hesitant step forward. The parlor was neat and tidy, with no visible sign of anything amiss.
"Frodo?" He called. "It's Merry! Pip and I have arrived, cousin!" Only silence answered him.
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam called apprehensively as he walked further down the hallway to check in the study. Perhaps Frodo was absorbed in a book or manuscript and just wasn't paying attention. The study was empty. This was extremely odd! Mr. Frodo knew Merry and Pippin were to arrive that day, and he was prepared for them. Why would he not be ready at hand when his cousins rang the bell?
Sam walked toward the bedroom with a growing knot of apprehension forming in his stomach. Was his master not feeling well? What if he were ill and had fallen, and Sam had been whistling away blithely in the garden the entire time? ~Ninnyhammer!~ Sam thought to himself. He should have checked on Mr. Frodo himself that morning, just for good measure.
He stepped into the bedroom, half expecting to see Frodo nestled against the pillows, a feverish blush blooming in his cheeks. His eyes widened in shock as he noted that the bed appeared to have not been slept in. Something on the dresser caught his eye. A candle in a small silver candleholder had been allowed to burn all the way down to a mere puddle of melted wax.
Merry and Pippin joined Sam in the doorway. Looks of confusion and concern passed from one hobbit to the next for a moment. Nobody spoke. Feeling a sense of dread he couldn't easily explain, Sam suddenly bolted from the room and through the front door, into the bright morning sunshine.
"Mr. Frodo!" He called out, his voice edged with a combination of fear and worry. The only thing he heard in answer were the birds in the trees and the bees buzzing in the flowers by the gate. There had to be an explanation for Frodo's absence, but for the life of him, Sam couldn't think of what it might be.
"Sam?" Merry had come to stand by his side and Pippin was right behind. Merry looked at his cousin's gardener and waited for him to answer.
"I don't know what's goin' on, Mr. Merry," he said, looking up the road with a strange expression on his face. "But I don't like it, and that's a fact." He continued to gaze up the road, a memory playing itself over and over again in his mind.
His thoughts returned to another sunny day when he couldn't find Frodo. At that time, Sam had good reason for his worry, what with that beast Bramblethorn about, and Mr. Frodo's nervous behavior. All that was over now, and life at Bag End had long since returned to normal.
When he broke away from his reverie, Sam realized it was the same hollow feeling he felt now, like something had knocked the wind out of him. He could feel his heart pounding and his hands were sweating. He had involuntarily clenched them into fists, his knuckles whitening.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Sam could feel it in his bones, the way the old-timers claimed to feel an approaching rainstorm. He could sense it in the sudden emptiness around him, the way the sun on the back of his neck suddenly didn't feel warm anymore and every sound around him was magnified as if to fill a silence that should not exist.
~*~
Sam, Merry and Pippin had decided to spread out and start searching Hobbiton and the surrounding area. They started with the places Frodo was known to frequent, which were mainly parts of the countryside, rather than the town itself. Frodo had a quiet, somewhat solitary way about him, and was prone to wandering in the countryside or slipping away somewhere quiet with a good book.
It was possible that Frodo had taken a morning walk and met with some accident along his route. If so, perhaps they would find him by walking and calling for him.
Sam started with the place that came to mind immediately, the secluded wood by the little stream near Bag End. It was the place where he had found Frodo that day two years before, and just in time by the look of things.
As he walked down the dusty road, Sam prayed that he was not too late this time. Two years ago, he had noticed Frodo's absence in a timely manner, and had acted immediately. This time he feared a great deal more time had passed. The last he had seen of Frodo was at supper the previous evening.
Sam considered all the pieces of the puzzle so far. There was the candle in the bedroom, burned down to nothing, and the neat, unrumpled state of the bedclothes. If there was a candle burning on the dresser, that meant Frodo had at least been in the bedroom, even if he hadn't gone to sleep. But Frodo simply wasn't careless enough to leave a candle burning unattended in a room. Sam shook his head. It all meant something, he was certain, but too many pieces were still missing from the puzzle.
And Frodo was missing as well, Sam thought as he searched along the wooded path. All Sam could think of was that he had failed. He had sworn to watch over his master and friend, but had obviously been caught napping. Kicking himself wouldn't cause Frodo to miraculously appear before him safe and whole, he admonished himself. Best to keep his mind focused upon the task at hand.
Calling Frodo's name as he went, Sam listened closely for an answer or any sound that might indicate someone in distress, but all that met his ears were the calls of birds and the sound of a light breeze rustling the leaves overhead.
The wood was empty. This time, there was no leather-bound book lying in fallen leaves, no voices rising from the thickets to lead him. There was nothing but trees and rocks, streams and sunlight. Only the things that belonged there, plus one fear driven hobbit searching desperately for someone he loved.
And what he felt for Frodo was most certainly love. Sam could find no other word to express it. Frodo's absence left him bereft of light, without enough air to breathe. He felt as if a part of him had suddenly disappeared. Was that what it meant to love someone? To be unable see, or think, or breathe without them nearby?
~Mr. Frodo, I swear if I find you I will tell you,~ Sam thought. ~I will tell you that you're my sun and stars and that there is no light without you.~
Sam walked on through the woods, his desperate search turning up nothing. He wondered how Merry and Pippin were faring.
~*~
"Frodo!" Merry called as he walked along a lonely road between two small farms. He got no answer, but kept walking and calling anyway. Surely Frodo must be somewhere nearby! This road led to, among other places, a hillside that afforded a wonderful view of much of the surrounding area. It was a favorite haunt of Frodo's.
Merry was hoping Frodo had gone for a walk and paused to rest upon the hill. It would be easy for one to be lulled into sleep by the warm sunshine on such a morning, and his cousin might very well have lain down in the grass for a moment and fallen asleep instead.
Reaching the top of the hill, Merry surveyed the countryside around him. Frodo was nowhere to be seen. The day was passing swiftly, Merry thought apprehensively. In a little while, he would have to head back to Bag End to see if Sam or Pippin had brought any news. If their search of the countryside failed to turn up any clues, they would start checking in town. If any of the folk there had seen Frodo in the last 24 hours, they might at least have some place to begin. Right now, he felt like he was searching for a single pebble among all the pebbles at the bottom of the Brandywine.
~*~
Pippin followed the stream as it wandered along its narrow rocky course, wending its way through the trees. His objective was a pond a short distance away. He, Sam and Merry had tried to think of all of the peaceful places Frodo liked most, and the pond was a good bet. He and Frodo had spent some hot summer afternoons swimming in the cool, shallow waters when Pippin had been a younger lad.
Upon reaching the little pond, Pippin called again for Frodo and listened. No answer. So far, there was no sign of his cousin. Pippin wasn't given to worrying a great deal about things, but he was beginning to feel worried about Frodo. His cousin was so responsible! Never before had he failed to be present to greet them on a visit, and he was never unduly late in arriving at the Great Smials or Brandy Hall when it was his turn to journey forth.
Pippin sighed, feeling defeated. He hoped the others had found more than he had. A thought came to him and his expression brightened again. Maybe Frodo was already back at Bag End waiting for them with some interesting tale to tell of the day's events, and wondering where they had been. Holding to that hope, he started back toward Bagshot Row.
~*~To be continued~*~