AN: Thanks a lot for those who reviewed the last chapters: Alisaundre,
aelfgifu (I saw a book by Dale Carnegie: How to win friends and influence
people. ^_^), Blue Jedi Hobbit, AndysPrincess, Niphrandl, Oddwen, Krista
(Hope you're better now! Please don't get pneumonia. There is a plague
going on now caused by a virus and it attacks the respiration system.),
endymion (LOL. Pippin didn't get a ladder. Maybe I made him use a log
instead. What do you think?), and Skye (Love your story 'Imprisoned' very
much!).
I'm now listening to BBC version of LOTR. Very nice!
Oh, I'd just got these from my beloved beta and illustrator, Emma. You should check them out!
Part 1: Part 2 Part 3
Warning: AU, angst
Chapter 36
They were not lost entirely, Frodo's screams. The echo went through Gandalf's mind, startling the wise wizard, like a cry for help. Gandalf clenched his eyes shut tightly, knowing he would find the source faster that way. He knew somehow the screams were Frodo's. He tried to talk to him now, asking him to send a signal back. Nothing. He received nothing.
He concentrated now to see instead of to listen. Still nothing. Everything was blurred.
"There is only one Lord of the Ring! Only one can bend it to his will. And he does not share power!" *
Gandalf recalled the words he gave to Saruman a moment before Gwaihir came to save him. He remembered as well Saruman's words before that.
"I might have failed for the first time. But I'm not worried. I'll get it the second time. And this time I will give no mercy. So warn your pretty little hobbit not to be too stubborn."
Gandalf chewed in the words with difficulty. It was like a riddle. Had Saruman just hinted at him that he had encountered Frodo? But how! And if Saruman meant to say that he had failed in taking the ring from Frodo, was he, Gandalf supposed to be happy?
What if Saruman couldn't take it because the ring was NOT with Frodo any longer? The question left would be: who had the ring now? It was hardly within Sauron's hand. No. Darkness had not come yet.
And now on Gwaihir's back, Gandalf was again trying hard to make contact with Frodo.
"Come on, little one. Hear me. Heed me. Show yourself."
And gradually the mist lifted up, showing an unmoving body in the middle of the woods. Gandalf's vision was getting clearer. His closed eyes were now able to spot Frodo's small frame, lying on his stomach with his face turning to one side.
Gandalf startled. He inhaled sharply. That face. It was not the one he knew at all; the smooth, pinkish-white skinned face. Frodo's face this time was sickly pale with bruises and swell, and there was a trace of blood in one corner of his lips. His expression was the one belong to someone who was in deep agony. Gandalf roared in shock and misery.
"Get down! Get down!" he shouted.
"Where?" replied Gwaihir. Gandalf went still. Where? All he knew was it was a forest, a hilly one. He himself was heading to Rivendell. Was Frodo near that place, too?
"I don't know," said Gandalf desperately. "But can we - can we just fly a little bit lower and scout the area?"
Gwaihir cocked his head.
"My dear Gandalf, it is not that I don't want to help you. But I can't help you if you don't even know for sure where to find your friend."
Gandalf sighed. Beloved Gwaihir. The bird even knew that he was thinking about Frodo without being told.
"He isn't just a friend. He is Frodo Baggins, a dearest cousin of Bilbo Baggins, the most respected hobbit amongst the elves. I can see Frodo in great trouble. I wish to help him before something worst happens."
Gandalf didn't dare to utter that word. Die. He couldn't say that. He couldn't say that he was afraid Frodo would die. Oh, Frodo. What had he asked the boy to do?
"I'm sorry," repeated Gwaihir. "I was hurt before I flew to Orthanc, and I haven't fully healed yet."
Gandalf nodded understandingly. He patted his friend's neck gently.
"It is all right. I understand. We shall get to Rivendell, then. There we can plan our next move."
There was nothing else Gandalf could do right now, and it broke his heart to realize that. Frodo's image was slowly fading.
***
"Heh," Merry said, looking down the small hill. "At least I don't have to bring him down as he definitely would pass out," he said to Pippin, who was also looking down.
"Did he die?" asked him. Merry chuckled.
"No, of course not! This hill is not that high!"
"But Merry, with his condition like that--"
His cousin cut his wail short.
"You're getting soft, aren't you, Pip? You can't! Do you remember when you kept the ring for a while? You were terrified, right? So was he! He is weak, Pippin! Frodo is weak, and what he would do was to give the ring away to some unknown people. Won't it be better if it is in the hand of someone you know well? I can give you anything you've ever wanted, Pippin, without your being afraid. So just do and follow my words. I'll make you more powerful that ever!"
As if under spell, Pippin nodded his head while staring at Merry in awe. His cousin was really brave and incredible! He had admired him before and he respected him more this time.
"Let's go! Grab your things and the pony. We have to get to Frodo before he is awake and escapes!"
***
Soft breeze and chirping sound of birds slowly awakened Frodo. The hobbit stirred. If he were given the freedom to choose, he would rather stay unconscious. This way he felt so peaceful and he didn't have to suffer al the pains and sores.
Frodo sighed while slowly lifting his eyelids open. Dark. Dark had been everywhere, and it was still lingering now. He had had this strangest dream. He had seen a man and an amazingly big bird the man was riding on. What had intrigued Frodo was that the man was trying to communicate with him. Frodo could hear him clearly. He asked him to reply. Frodo felt confused. Had it been a dream or reality?
Either way, he didn't feel like answering. He had felt peaceful enough. He didn't want to wake up. Actually, he kind of forgot what it was like in the real world but he knew it would only give him sorrow and pain. He didn't want any of them. So, he had kept quiet. Let the man and his awful bird pass by. If only he knew --- Frodo then gladly embraced the darkness again.
***
Ah, sleep didn't really help either. And with the wind getting chillier, Frodo was forced to gain his full consciousness. He opened his eyes only to be welcomed by a whirling sensation. He closed his eyes again in dismay. His head must have hit something quite hard. Something sticky above his right eye confirmed this.
With a moan, Frodo tugged his legs up to his chest, and hugged them with his arms, which were full with scratches and bruises. He gasped a little when his right ankle brushed the ground. It seemed that it had got twisted somewhere during his fall. The pain made him choked and Frodo felt so sick he thought he would pass out again.
"Somebody, help me," a strangled voice escaped his trembling lips. He hugged his legs more tightly. He felt so cold and miserable, and he was not sure who to call. He didn't want to call Merry. He just couldn't. But he realized he couldn't mention other names either. Not his papa, mama, Bilbo, not even Ted. He felt certain Merry would find this out, his crying for people's names other than Merry's. No, he wouldn't dare.
Frodo was still in his curled-up position when he heard steps coming. He began to quiver. What was that? An animal?
"Ah, here you are, Frodo!"
Someone he dreaded most. Merry! Frodo tried to shut his mind up from anything. But no matter how tight he closed his eyes, Merry was still there.
"Are you awake, Frodo?" Merry's fingers ran through his curls. Frodo tensed. Then his cousin gasped when seeing the blood on his forehead.
"Oh, you're injured! Let me clean that for you, Frodo."
Frodo flinched when a piece of cloth swept over his wound.
"Don't move, cousin. Let me finish it."
Gently, Merry brushed the blood away. Frodo almost couldn't breathe. Oh, so gentle ---
Slowly, Frodo opened his eyes, looking lost and pitiful. He noticed how Merry never left his gaze from his wound. And when he finally finished, Merry met Frodo's eyes, smiling.
"There. It didn't hurt a lot, right?" Frodo shook his head. Tears started to form in his eyes.
"Ssh, come on." Merry reached for Frodo's shoulders and embraced them, taking them to his lap. "You're going to be fine."
The embrace felt so warm. Frodo closed his eyes again and he sobbed silently. Merry, dear Merry.
"Frodo," called Merry, his hands still busy brushing Frodo's hair off the hobbit's forehead. Frodo's eyes fluttered open. Tears were still gleaming there.
"Yes, Merry?" answered him in a small voice.
"What was the name of the place where Bilbo was going?"
Frodo started. Why did Merry ask him this?
"Rivendell," answered him questioningly. Rivendell. The place of the elves. Why would Merry want to know?
"Why is it, Merry?"
His younger cousin smiled a little. Ah, right. Rivendell. He saw that place once on Bilbo's map, the nearest inhabited place from Bree besides the Shire. Merry was amazed at himself. He had actually known this. What a nice plan he had ---
"Why Frodo? Ah, don't you want to see your Cousin Bilbo again?"
The expression on Frodo's face was priceless. It was a mixture of deep longing and great joy, combined with hurt and betrayed feeling. And when he saw the smirk on Merry's face, it was added with fear.
TBC
* taken from Peter Jackson's LOTR: FOTR
I'm now listening to BBC version of LOTR. Very nice!
Oh, I'd just got these from my beloved beta and illustrator, Emma. You should check them out!
Part 1: Part 2 Part 3
Warning: AU, angst
Chapter 36
They were not lost entirely, Frodo's screams. The echo went through Gandalf's mind, startling the wise wizard, like a cry for help. Gandalf clenched his eyes shut tightly, knowing he would find the source faster that way. He knew somehow the screams were Frodo's. He tried to talk to him now, asking him to send a signal back. Nothing. He received nothing.
He concentrated now to see instead of to listen. Still nothing. Everything was blurred.
"There is only one Lord of the Ring! Only one can bend it to his will. And he does not share power!" *
Gandalf recalled the words he gave to Saruman a moment before Gwaihir came to save him. He remembered as well Saruman's words before that.
"I might have failed for the first time. But I'm not worried. I'll get it the second time. And this time I will give no mercy. So warn your pretty little hobbit not to be too stubborn."
Gandalf chewed in the words with difficulty. It was like a riddle. Had Saruman just hinted at him that he had encountered Frodo? But how! And if Saruman meant to say that he had failed in taking the ring from Frodo, was he, Gandalf supposed to be happy?
What if Saruman couldn't take it because the ring was NOT with Frodo any longer? The question left would be: who had the ring now? It was hardly within Sauron's hand. No. Darkness had not come yet.
And now on Gwaihir's back, Gandalf was again trying hard to make contact with Frodo.
"Come on, little one. Hear me. Heed me. Show yourself."
And gradually the mist lifted up, showing an unmoving body in the middle of the woods. Gandalf's vision was getting clearer. His closed eyes were now able to spot Frodo's small frame, lying on his stomach with his face turning to one side.
Gandalf startled. He inhaled sharply. That face. It was not the one he knew at all; the smooth, pinkish-white skinned face. Frodo's face this time was sickly pale with bruises and swell, and there was a trace of blood in one corner of his lips. His expression was the one belong to someone who was in deep agony. Gandalf roared in shock and misery.
"Get down! Get down!" he shouted.
"Where?" replied Gwaihir. Gandalf went still. Where? All he knew was it was a forest, a hilly one. He himself was heading to Rivendell. Was Frodo near that place, too?
"I don't know," said Gandalf desperately. "But can we - can we just fly a little bit lower and scout the area?"
Gwaihir cocked his head.
"My dear Gandalf, it is not that I don't want to help you. But I can't help you if you don't even know for sure where to find your friend."
Gandalf sighed. Beloved Gwaihir. The bird even knew that he was thinking about Frodo without being told.
"He isn't just a friend. He is Frodo Baggins, a dearest cousin of Bilbo Baggins, the most respected hobbit amongst the elves. I can see Frodo in great trouble. I wish to help him before something worst happens."
Gandalf didn't dare to utter that word. Die. He couldn't say that. He couldn't say that he was afraid Frodo would die. Oh, Frodo. What had he asked the boy to do?
"I'm sorry," repeated Gwaihir. "I was hurt before I flew to Orthanc, and I haven't fully healed yet."
Gandalf nodded understandingly. He patted his friend's neck gently.
"It is all right. I understand. We shall get to Rivendell, then. There we can plan our next move."
There was nothing else Gandalf could do right now, and it broke his heart to realize that. Frodo's image was slowly fading.
***
"Heh," Merry said, looking down the small hill. "At least I don't have to bring him down as he definitely would pass out," he said to Pippin, who was also looking down.
"Did he die?" asked him. Merry chuckled.
"No, of course not! This hill is not that high!"
"But Merry, with his condition like that--"
His cousin cut his wail short.
"You're getting soft, aren't you, Pip? You can't! Do you remember when you kept the ring for a while? You were terrified, right? So was he! He is weak, Pippin! Frodo is weak, and what he would do was to give the ring away to some unknown people. Won't it be better if it is in the hand of someone you know well? I can give you anything you've ever wanted, Pippin, without your being afraid. So just do and follow my words. I'll make you more powerful that ever!"
As if under spell, Pippin nodded his head while staring at Merry in awe. His cousin was really brave and incredible! He had admired him before and he respected him more this time.
"Let's go! Grab your things and the pony. We have to get to Frodo before he is awake and escapes!"
***
Soft breeze and chirping sound of birds slowly awakened Frodo. The hobbit stirred. If he were given the freedom to choose, he would rather stay unconscious. This way he felt so peaceful and he didn't have to suffer al the pains and sores.
Frodo sighed while slowly lifting his eyelids open. Dark. Dark had been everywhere, and it was still lingering now. He had had this strangest dream. He had seen a man and an amazingly big bird the man was riding on. What had intrigued Frodo was that the man was trying to communicate with him. Frodo could hear him clearly. He asked him to reply. Frodo felt confused. Had it been a dream or reality?
Either way, he didn't feel like answering. He had felt peaceful enough. He didn't want to wake up. Actually, he kind of forgot what it was like in the real world but he knew it would only give him sorrow and pain. He didn't want any of them. So, he had kept quiet. Let the man and his awful bird pass by. If only he knew --- Frodo then gladly embraced the darkness again.
***
Ah, sleep didn't really help either. And with the wind getting chillier, Frodo was forced to gain his full consciousness. He opened his eyes only to be welcomed by a whirling sensation. He closed his eyes again in dismay. His head must have hit something quite hard. Something sticky above his right eye confirmed this.
With a moan, Frodo tugged his legs up to his chest, and hugged them with his arms, which were full with scratches and bruises. He gasped a little when his right ankle brushed the ground. It seemed that it had got twisted somewhere during his fall. The pain made him choked and Frodo felt so sick he thought he would pass out again.
"Somebody, help me," a strangled voice escaped his trembling lips. He hugged his legs more tightly. He felt so cold and miserable, and he was not sure who to call. He didn't want to call Merry. He just couldn't. But he realized he couldn't mention other names either. Not his papa, mama, Bilbo, not even Ted. He felt certain Merry would find this out, his crying for people's names other than Merry's. No, he wouldn't dare.
Frodo was still in his curled-up position when he heard steps coming. He began to quiver. What was that? An animal?
"Ah, here you are, Frodo!"
Someone he dreaded most. Merry! Frodo tried to shut his mind up from anything. But no matter how tight he closed his eyes, Merry was still there.
"Are you awake, Frodo?" Merry's fingers ran through his curls. Frodo tensed. Then his cousin gasped when seeing the blood on his forehead.
"Oh, you're injured! Let me clean that for you, Frodo."
Frodo flinched when a piece of cloth swept over his wound.
"Don't move, cousin. Let me finish it."
Gently, Merry brushed the blood away. Frodo almost couldn't breathe. Oh, so gentle ---
Slowly, Frodo opened his eyes, looking lost and pitiful. He noticed how Merry never left his gaze from his wound. And when he finally finished, Merry met Frodo's eyes, smiling.
"There. It didn't hurt a lot, right?" Frodo shook his head. Tears started to form in his eyes.
"Ssh, come on." Merry reached for Frodo's shoulders and embraced them, taking them to his lap. "You're going to be fine."
The embrace felt so warm. Frodo closed his eyes again and he sobbed silently. Merry, dear Merry.
"Frodo," called Merry, his hands still busy brushing Frodo's hair off the hobbit's forehead. Frodo's eyes fluttered open. Tears were still gleaming there.
"Yes, Merry?" answered him in a small voice.
"What was the name of the place where Bilbo was going?"
Frodo started. Why did Merry ask him this?
"Rivendell," answered him questioningly. Rivendell. The place of the elves. Why would Merry want to know?
"Why is it, Merry?"
His younger cousin smiled a little. Ah, right. Rivendell. He saw that place once on Bilbo's map, the nearest inhabited place from Bree besides the Shire. Merry was amazed at himself. He had actually known this. What a nice plan he had ---
"Why Frodo? Ah, don't you want to see your Cousin Bilbo again?"
The expression on Frodo's face was priceless. It was a mixture of deep longing and great joy, combined with hurt and betrayed feeling. And when he saw the smirk on Merry's face, it was added with fear.
TBC
* taken from Peter Jackson's LOTR: FOTR
