Thank you everyone who reviewed. Here's another update at last. I hope to have another soon. Perhaps next week. Also, I'd like to thank Iorhael for betaing for me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Lord of the Rings…The characters are property of JRR Tolkien's descendents and certain events to the makers of the epic film.

Home is Where the Heart is

Troubling Tidings

I awaken to find Gandalf sitting patiently in a chair near the foot of my bed, his chin resting on his staff – an all too familiar sight for my comfort.

"Ah, Frodo, you are awake," he says, a slight smile evident in his dark eyes.

"Gandalf! How long have I been asleep?" I ask while stretching.

"You have been asleep for about eight hours." He moves his chair closer to my bed. "Perhaps now you can tell me what ailed you in the dining hall. 'Nothing,' Frodo, does not look like that."

I get into a comfortable reclining position. "My left side and arm," I say, an edge to my voice.

"I see. Your arm did seem oddly cold; however, why should it now be ailing you? The Ring, and, therefore, the Black Riders are gone with the rest of Sauron's forces. It should not be so painful." Gandalf looks deep in thought.

"Saruman appeared to me." Gandalf jerks his head up and begins listening intently. "He said he has revived the Ringwraiths and has almost reforged the Ring," I continue gravely.

Gandalf looks at me, bearing a shocked and concerned expression on his face. "He must be very near, indeed, if he has the Ringwraiths." Gandalf stands quickly. "I must leave at once. I shall have Elrond examine your wound."

I leap out of my bed and go after him, landing on all fours with a thud, some of the covers draping off the bed beneath me. "Gandalf, will I have to go on yet another quest?" Gandalf turns abruptly, his face grave with the possibility.

"I hope it will not come to that, Frodo." We walk out the great doors that lead to the surrounding village after walking for a while in silence. Gandalf calls Shadowfax.

"Should I mention any of this to my uncle or any of the others of the Fellowship?" I ask urgently.

"No." he answers shortly.

"What do I tell them as to why you have left so quickly?"

Urgency can now be seen in Gandalf's expression. "Tell them my business was more urgent than they thought. Say nothing of this to anyone, save Elrond." He mounts his horse.

"Yes, Gandalf," I confirm, nodding my head firmly. Shadowfax gallops off rapidly into the billowy clouds of dust.

I turn and walk back inside, hoping to meet no one on my way back in. As it is nearing the nine o' clock hour in the evening, I doubt that I will. I am restless with no one to talk to of the excitement of what is to take place in a day or two or to tell of my encounter with Saruman. I hope the latter does not happen again with Gandalf gone.

I walk through the winding corridor to my room somewhat loudly, but the sight of Elrond rounding a corner causes me to use my hobbit stealth in hope of avoiding him. However, elf ears are highly attuned to even the slightest sound, and Elrond stops me. "Good evening, Lord Elrond," I say quietly, trying not to wake the others.

"Frodo," Elrond nods his head in recognition. "I thought Gandalf the White told you to stay in bed." I nod my head in agreement. "Why then," he continues, "are you out of your bed? Moreover, where is Gandalf? I have not seen him since the evening meal."

"Could we go to the sitting room?" I begin to walk in its direction as if I knew where I am going. I halt as I notice Elrond standing where he was. "That is, if Strider has one."

"Yes, the Dứnadan does have one. Follow me, if you will." He begins to lead, and I find it hard to keep in step with him. "We must have some ill-favored tidings to discuss, halfling, if you want to discuss it in the sitting room, away from all others."

"That we do," I inform him. As we reach the sitting room, Elrond rekindles the fire and takes a seat, as do I although somewhat uncomfortably.

"What is the news you bear, Frodo of the Shire?" he asks gravely, sitting stiffly straight and majestic. "Does it concern your sudden pain earlier?"

"Yes. Saruman appeared to me. He informed me that he was nearly finished reforging the Ring and has the Ringwraiths; thus, Gandalf's departure. The wraiths are near." I pause, giving Elrond some time to take in the ill tidings.

"Then it is as I feared. Saruman has escaped Isengard."

"Aye." I stand, the chair being too large for my liking. "The pain engulfed me. It weakened my will to the point where he could sense my pain and fear. Never before have I felt such anger, except when Sméagol took the Ring from me." I sit down, my back against the frame of the fireplace and my knees pulled tightly to my chest.

Elrond's face shows concern. "May I examine your wound, Frodo?"

"Of course, my lord," I mumble and slowly unbutton my shirt and pull it back just far enough for him to see my scar.

Elrond places his hand over my wound and chants a few words in Elvish that I can barely make out. I listen intently, trying to make out some of the words, but it seems to be in an Elvish tongue I do not know.

"What were you doing?" I inquire of him when he pulls his hand away.

"I was trying to see if it had healed properly," he explains.

I button up my shirt and rise, stifling a yawn. "I am so tired. I think I want to sleep now. But one more thing before I go. Gandalf said not to mention this to anyone."

Elrond nods his head. "Goodnight, Frodo." he says as I leave.