Disclaimer: I own none of the following characters or the world in which they live. Tolkien owns such.
A/N: The following tale sort of came out on its own, a manifestation of many things we deal with today. I realize that some of the story may be hard to follow or not make sense at some parts. You needn't comment on this (or you may if you like) but I wanted to point out that life is like that. Many things that happen make the least bit of sense and have nothing to offer us later, they just are.
A tale of friendship and dark paths.
Being the Eighth Part of….
To Tread the Path of Darkness
Out of Sight, Out of Mind
Frodo's hand was trembling. He clutched it to his side, hiding it beneath his cloak so that Aragorn would not see.
"--Hollin in four days, if we pick up the pace," Aragorn was saying, giving a brief description of the beginning of their journey. Frodo of course had heard it all before when they were mapping out their route in Rivendell but he asked again regardless, more for the fact that he was comforted by Aragorn's voice and presence than ought else.
"Picking up our pace, you say? Certainly not," Frodo hardly managed to stifle a yawn. He couldn't imagine going faster than they were. He felt as if he could fall asleep right now . . . but then, he'd have to face his dreams--his nightmares--alone. Frodo barely suppressed a shudder.
"Do not fear, my good Hobbit," the Ranger assured him, misinterpreting the shiver. Placing several branches upon the small crackling fire, Aragorn glanced over to see how Boromir and Sam were doing with meal preparations. He noted in amusement that Legolas had grown tired of their company and now turned to Gandalf to speak of the road ahead, much as he and Frodo were doing. "I doubt very much that Gandalf would comply."
"You think we travel too slow?" Frodo asked, curious.
"I think the Shadow moves too fast," Aragorn said softly, his words filled with a sorrow that frightened Frodo. It sounded very much like defeat in the Ranger's voice.
"Indeed?" the Hobbit asked and he received a tired nod.
"I fear so, Frodo. I do not think our departure from Rivendell has gone entirely unnoticed."
"Then our pace must quicken," the Hobbit said suddenly, his voice firm. "Have you spoken of this to Gandalf?"
"He knows," the Ranger words were barely audible.
"But he will not--?" Frodo began, confused. If danger was near, as Aragorn so feared, then surely Gandalf would--
The Ranger shook his head. "He will not."
"Then we are not in as much danger as you fear," Frodo conceded, and reached up to grasp the chain about his neck. He stroked It absently, then, realizing what he was doing, tore his hand away with hardly a suppressed cry. He wanted to tear the thing from about his neck . . . but he dared not.
Aragorn paused in feeding the fire to peer over at the Hobbit. "You have much faith in the wizard."
"He is my friend," Frodo said simply and Aragorn started in surprise. He had expected the Hobbit to say something more along the lines of "he is Wise" and Aragorn wouldn't have disputed such. But "he is my friend"? For some reason, this struck the Ranger as odd and his hard face relaxed into a rare, amused smile.
"Indeed he is," Aragorn said. He looked over at the wizard, who was speaking gruffly with the Elf, his hands flailing about in a haphazard illustration of that of which he spoke. "And a very trustworthy one at that. Thank you, Frodo."
Frodo clutched his hands tightly together but made a show of paying very close attention to the Ranger's words. "For what?" he asked.
"For easing my mind. I have been thinking on much of late—too much—and have forgotten something that should have remained steadfast in my heart. Thank you for reminding me of this simple truth and banishing my worries."
Frodo smiled kindly. "Merry says I'm good at causing worry. For silly reasons, mostly," the Hobbit assured the Ranger hurriedly as he frowned slightly, "but perhaps I am good for other things, too."
Aragorn smiled and nodded. "Indeed so. I shall have a talk with your cousin and set him straight if you like."
Frodo laughed. "I would like that very much," he said. "Perhaps then he will let me be in peace and stop fretting. And perhaps after you get through with Merry you could speak to Sam. I'm not too certain I know which is worse!"
"Very well," Aragorn said with a light chuckle. "I will speak with both of them. And for good measure, I will set the youngest straight, too."
At the mention of Pippin, Frodo's eyes dimmed and the laughter on his lips vanished. "Oh, you needn't worry about him. He helps me fend them off," but the mirth in his voice was gone and he sat very still, gazing into the fire that now danced merrily thanks to Aragorn's talented hands.
The Ranger watched Frodo for a moment. "Is everything well with Peregrin, Frodo?" he asked finally, not wanting to get involved with business not his own but genuinely concerned for the headstrong Took.
Frodo looked up into the Ranger's dark eyes and seemed to consider something. Just as his mind seemed made up, Boromir and Sam came over with the uncooked food and Frodo, seeing this, hesitated and let his gaze drop once again.
"Boromir and I have prepared something special for Luncheon today, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, quite proud. It seemed Legolas had indeed come in handy, for there the Hobbit and Man had three rabbits. Sam had also scrounged up several herbs and had two of the remaining four potatoes he had left Rivendell with.
"It isn't much," Boromir added, seeing Frodo's disinterested gaze. "But it is better than we have had for a time."
"It will do quite well," Aragorn said, sitting himself on a log not far from the fire. "And the blaze is all yours. Do with it what you will."
Gimli came over then, to peer with interest at the uncooked food. Boromir and Sam knelt, gathering their cooking gear and began secondary preparations for the meal. The Dwarf stood there for a moment longer, then squatted down and Man, Dwarf, and Hobbit went about the dutiful chore of cooking.
Frodo stood suddenly and was about to go find a solitary corner where he might think undisturbed when Merry came over and grasped his cousin by the arm.
"Frodo?" he said, his eyes falling momentarily on the stew then on Sam and the others.
"What is it, Merry?" Frodo asked, irritated with his cousin though he could not say why. I am tired, he told himself, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, as his right one had slowly began to creep toward the golden band about his silver chain.
Merry pulled his cousin aside. "Have you seen Pippin?"
Aragorn, ever alert, caught the halfling's words and peered about sharply. Peregrin was nowhere to be seen and a moment later the Ranger realized something else was amiss. "Where's the Dwarf's wineskin," Aragorn hissed, rising to his feet.
~*~