Hey everybody. Lillia here. I'm really sorry about the very long wait. I have WBS like you wouldn't believe. I probably wouldn't even be updating now if not for the fact that my mom is canceling our internet next week. So I have to update now, and I don't know when I'll be able to update again. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. I really, really, really wish I did. But I do own all 3 books, the hobbit, the similarian and all 3 movies on DVD, oh and a history channel documentary on it, and 2 movie posters...but don't actually own IT...such a shame.

PS: --- is a change in perspective...but only slightly as this is 3rd POV

A Realization

Frodo shifted a little, uncomfortably. Brown Eyes had just stepped out of the room, to go get someone. That was fine. Maybe they could do something about this...this...this weight. Frodo had no idea what it was...but he had felt it nearly as soon as he awoke. This horrible...weight...upon his chest. His chest was awfully cold in that spot, as well. But mainly it was this weight that troubled him the greatest. It was all centered on one very small spot, so Frodo believed that it was something laying there on him...it wasn't horribly heavy, but he was very, very aware of its weight...but it was more than just a physical weight. He felt a weight, like a heavy burden on his very soul. Like a thick blanket over his heart, suffocating his very insides.

Mainly, Frodo just wanted to know what this unknown weight was. He wanted to know what it was, what it was doing there, but most of all, how he could get rid of it. It left a fell presence in his mind that, try as he might, he couldn't evade. And Frodo didn't like this feeling. No, he didn't like it at all.

Brown Eyes...or, wait...Sam came in then, and very shortly after another hobbit came running in, and this one was followed by three others...although they were not hobbits. Frodo tried to shift, to see them better...but moving even a fraction of an inch pained him terribly...so he waited until they came closer to the bed to see who they were. He didn't have to wait very long, because Brown Eyes immediately sat in the chair closest to his bed, and the other hobbit, after a moment of struggling, managed to climb up onto the bed, and sat right next to Frodo. Frodo had the immediate instinct to pull away from him, but his current condition, and the look in the amber eyes of the hobbit next to him stopped him from doing so. At least the other, taller, people who had entered his room did not come as close as Brown Eyes and the hobbit with golden brown curls, who after a little concentration, Frodo identified as his cousin, Merry, had.

---

Aragorn came over to where Frodo lay, looking up at him expectantly. Aragorn's step faltered just a bit when he noticed something different in Frodo's eyes, but he tried to hide it as he continued over to Frodo's side. He carefully helped Frodo to a sitting position, trying to be as gentle as he could, but he could tell that it still hurt Frodo a bit.

"Hello Frodo." He said, sitting. "How are you feeling?" Frodo just stared at him.

---

Frodo stared at the Man sitting near him. Did he know this Man? After a moment, the answer cleared in his gray haze of a mind. He was supposed to know him...so...he supposed he knew this Man...but how, he couldn't remember.

---

Aragorn suddenly realized what was different in Frodo's eyes: the lack of recognition. Worried, he hoped that he had somehow imagined this realization. But he had to find out.

"Frodo, do you know who I am?" he asked gently.

---

Frodo became worried...so he was correct; he was supposed to know this Man. He searched through his mind, through his memories, but soon he became very dizzy from this, and all he managed to get were a few short flashes of images of walking or talking to this Man. None of these images made much sense...but they proved the fact that he knew him.

So very slowly, he nodded, just the slightest inclination of his head, because moving his head and neck hurt him terribly.

---

Aragorn nearly sighed in relief...before the dread wakened on him again. He didn't want to ask this next question, for he feared the answer...but he knew he must.

"Frodo, could you tell me my name?" he said slowly. His dread deepened when Frodo hesitated, for a very long time.

---

Frodo stared at the Man, as if the answer were written on his face, then he stared down at his hands. He didn't know what to say...

What he was to do, he did not know...he was scared to let all these people know how much he could not remember...then a new realization hit him: it really didn't matter that he did not remember. He could not speak anyway.

With a soft breathe, Frodo attempted to speak the first name that came into his mind, although it was not the Man's, but all that came out was a very hoarse, undistinguishable rasp. Taking another breathe, Frodo tried again...but the tearing in his throat prevented it from being a very good try. It hurt so terribly, Frodo gave up trying. But he wished he could speak. He really wished to tell this Man to rid him of this fell weight on his chest.

---

Aragorn recognized that Frodo could not speak, and had a hunch of why. "Samwise, go see if you can get a glass of water for your master."

After a reluctant look from Sam, showing how greatly he'd rather stay, he quickly scurried off to get the water.

In a moment, he returned, a cup filled with water held with both browned hands. He handed it up to Aragorn, who carefully brought the brim to Frodo's lips. With a moment of hesitation, Frodo took a drink, and then winced as he swallowed it.

Slowly, he tried to speak again...but all that emerged was a squeak, and a sort of very soft, raspy moan.

Aragorn decided that it was too early for Frodo to speak, with the condition his throat and lungs were in. Then he spied a quill on the table near him, and was sparked with a new idea.

"Samwise, go and get some parchment, ink and a good quill pen."

Sam had the guts to look indignant at Aragorn, as he went off. Aragorn said nothing of the dirty look he received, as he knew that continually leaving Frodo, now that he was awake, bothered Sam. In a moment Sam returned with the ink, quill and paper.

Aragorn set a piece of parchment in front of Frodo, and then placed a bottle of ink, and a quill within reach of his hand.

"There, Frodo." He said. "Could you write my name, for me?"

---

Frodo looked down at the paper. Write his name? He decided that he had to write something...or they would know something was wrong. He went to lift his right hand...when he realized that it wouldn't lift! He went to lift it again, but again it stayed still. Starring down at his hand, he silently commanded it to move, but it stayed quite still. He couldn't even coax a finger to twitch. It was the most frustrating thing he had ever felt, not being able to move something that was his to move. He couldn't even feel anything in that hand.

Finally, he lifted his left hand, which, to his great relief, lifted right away. With his left hand he picked up the quill, dipped it into the ink, and then brought it to the paper... the only problem he could see now was what to write... Shutting his eyes he tried to force his memories to come back to him, tried to make the thick, gray fog clear in his mind...but opening his eyes again, he realized that it was no use. He struggled to think of this Man's name...but the dense fog stubbornly prevented him from reaching it. His whole mind seemed a slight blur, and no matter how hard he tried, he could get nothing out of it but what it wanted to tell him. He searched his thoughts so hard that he made himself very much dizzier, and then his vision blurred. He shut his eyes suddenly as a low spasm of pain rippled up his back. The stinging began anew again. He really wished that Man hadn't of moved him. It hurt worse to be sitting, but he said nothing...could say nothing anyway.

'They really need to be thinking about poor Pip! I'm the reason he is so hurt. I will gain my mind back soon enough, for now they should not worry about me' Frodo thought that maybe if he could shift the conversation from his own selfish welfare, then they could forget about him. Then a new thought reached him, and very carefully, and very slowly he wrote:

how is pip?

---

Aragorn looked down at what Frodo had written. He sighed softly. Frodo had not answered his question, but Aragorn certainly would not ignore his.

"Young Peregrin is doing quite well, actually."

---

Frodo smiled softly. He felt quite content. Not only had he successfully changed the subject off of his own selfish welfare, he had been graced with wonderful news: his cousin was alright! He was really afraid...that after that fall he had taken-that fall that he himself had caused-that he would be really hurt. He couldn't remember this Man...but something told him that he would not lie to him.

He tried to speak again, but just could not, and he make a soft, choking sound. He stopped trying, as his throat hurt terribly. Why it hurt so, he had not a clue. His back seemed to be on fire and the stinging came back stronger now that he thought about it. Then the Man was looking at him. His eyes were gentle and concerned. Although he didn't remember the Man, he soon found himself very glad that he was with him.

"Mr. Strider, is he alright?" who said that? Oh, it was Brown Eyes, Frodo thought.

Whoever Mr. Strider was didn't answer Brown Eyes. Then the Man said "Are you in a lot of pain?"

'Oh, he was speaking to me,' Frodo realized. Frodo stayed silent a moment. He was in a lot of pain. It hurt him to move in the bed, every breathe was more painful, his right shoulder was stinging and burning, and his head swam and seemed to be crushing in for no reason. And that horrible weight on his chest! But he could not tell the Man this...not any of it. He didn't deserve pity or sympathy. After all, just look at what he had done to his own cousin!

Frodo shook his head, no, though it hurt to do so.

---

Aragorn stared at him. He did not belive this. "How do you feel, Frodo? Try to write it." He said gently.

---

Frodo lifted his left hand slowly, as he redipped the quill in ink. Then he slowly and carefully wrote:

i am fine i feel alright

---

Aragorn looked down at his answer. Now he knew this was a lie. Then he realized why Frodo's writing was so messy: Frodo always wrote with his right hand.

"Why are you not using your right hand to write, Frodo?" he asked.

---

Frodo looked away from the Man. 'How could you explain why, without revealing that you cannot move your right arm?' he asked himself.

---

Aragorn looked down at Frodo. He did not like his silence. There was something wrong with him. Why was Frodo acting so strangely? It was usual for the hobbit to dislike being cared for...but this was way beyond that. He decided to try once more.

"Frodo, who am I?" he asked softly.

Frodo did not answer, nor did he move for his quill. Then Aragorn pointed to Boromir, "Who is he?" he asked. Frodo stared at Boromir for a moment, shut his eyes, but then remained silent. His hand never drifted near the quill.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
okay, that's it for now. I'd write more, but I'm leaving for vacation in 4 hours. So consequently I will not be able to update for a while. Then my internet is getting taken away for the summer!! So don't know when the next chapter will be up. Anyway, got a couple reviews for this:

Coolio02: thank you! Yeah, Frodo needs to talk to his cousin, huh? Maybe next chapter. Haven't decided what will happen yet. sorry about the wait and please keep RR!

Arwen Baggins: thank you!! I thought about doing some stuff during the journey to Lothlorien... but I figured it wouldn't be very important, as Frodo was unconscious during it all. I guess I could've put some worrying for Aragorn and maybe some angst for Sam or something...but too late now lol. Oh and thanks. I learned the word 'effulgence' in English this year, and I couldn't resist putting some of my hard learned vocab in :P. anyway, thanks again and please keep RR! Ps: no mistakes? AWESOME!

Anyway, thanks again both of yoU!!

Lillia