Iorhael: Glad you like them. Thank you so much for the review and for all the help on the story! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings since Tolkien wrote the book, and I am not him; and PJ did the movies, and I'm not him either.
Alone
March 19, 1420 S.R.
Where am I? No one has come by. I can't seek them; my back hurts too much. I can barely write. I have no idea how I got here, wherever "here" is. It is a hobbit hole, I can see that much, but whose home?
Does this mean I have a friend? I am very hopeful. I want a friend a lot. Perhaps it would take my mind off of my pain. This back of mine must have been worn a lot during the Quest for it to be getting injured as easily as it has been.
Or does it mean someone is doing this out of charity? How I hate that word! Charity. How can one accept help from one he does not know? A friend can lend a helping hand, but for a complete stranger to offer help? Preposterous!
Perhaps it means someone has some plan to destroy me out here? Who knows how far this hole is from town. He could do anything to me so long as no one knows I'm here.
Now I've scared myself. Think optimistically, Frodo Baggins. But how can I when there is nothing to look forward to, to hope for, to do, to live for? Optimism, what an idea! I cannot be it. It's hard to watch those who are. They walk around happy all day. It only serves to remind me of my daily misery. Where am I? I am feeling miserable and hungry. I need someone's assistance now. F.B.
Frodo placed his faded journal in his pocket, lying still. He was filled with fear, knowing he was at the mercy of another's will until he could move. He clenched and unclenched his fists. How he wished he were not in this predicament. His stomach grumbled, and as though answering its call, the doctor walked in with a tray that had a bowl of oatmeal and a cold glass of water on it.
"Good morning, Mr. Baggins!" he greeted sickly-sweet.
"Dr. Sackville-Baggins, morning," Frodo replied, feeling relieved, yet somehow unrelieved at his location.
The doctor began to feed Frodo. "How is your back?"
"Hurting," Frodo stated after swallowing.
"Then, it is a good thing I brought some medicine."
"Pain," Frodo protested as Sandy tried to give him the medicine, "though aggressive, is friend, not foe, helping one grow stronger till pain exists no more. I shall take nothing to relieve my pain, doctor."
The doctor shook his head in disagreement. This would put a dent in his plans if he could not get Frodo to take the medicine. "No, Frodo, I disagree." He sat on a bench in such a way that he looked authoritative in what he was saying. "You see, there comes a time when pain exceeds the mere muscle fatigue and ache of doing a new exercise, when it is the result of injury instead. This, Mr. Baggins, is the result of injury. I've a feeling you fell out of a tree somewhere judging by where Sancho found you."
Frodo's face tensed. "Sancho Proudfoot saw me – knows I'm injured?" The doctor nodded. "I was hoping it was only you who knew I was injured."
"Well, I am afraid that is not the case. Now, will you take the medicine?"
Frodo nodded as the pain came to a climax. "Aye, doctor." He drank down the foul-tasting liquid and then eagerly gulped the water.
"I am going to go to town for a while. I need to pick up a few supplies," the doctor said while standing. "Do not leave this bed no matter what. The pain is only being masked; your back is not nearly healed."
Frodo nodded drowsily as the doctor left the room.
As soon as he was out of sight, Sandy rent his clothes and cut himself in a few places and messed up his hair as best he could and limped out the front door. His plan was working perfectly.
Peregrin Took watched in disbelief as he sat in the Green Dragon Inn that evening. Sandy Sackville-Baggins was telling a tale.
"Then, he grabbed my clothes as I walked out to get his food and tore them. His eyes – oh! the look in those eyes! It was that of anger. He grabbed his dagger out of its sheath and cut me and tore my clothes. He's gone mad; he has! To do such a thing when I was only trying to help him! The poor lad," Sandy finished.
Pippin stood, enraged. "My cousin did no such thing! Harm you?" he scoffed. "He would not sink that low. He is a gentle, mild-mannered hobbit."
Sandy glared at him, then turned to the rest of the people with a kindly face. "My dear friends, who would you believe? Me, a sober hobbit, or him, one who has been drinking pints of beer?"
The crowd roared in agreement.
Pippin drew closer. "You all know that the Sackville-Bagginses do not like the Bagginses!"
"I'm sorry, Peregrin Took, but really, that old feud ended long ago."
Pippin scoffed. "It did not! Friends, fellow countrymen, do not listen to him. Frodo is not who he is presenting him to be."
Sancho snorted.
"I must discredit him. Firstly, he is his cousin. We all know how family members are partial and they stick together! Secondly, he went on that trip with Frodo. For all we know, he could be insane, too!" The crowd was silent, eagerly awaiting Pippin's reply, whose face had turned crimson.
"I assure you, I am not insane. Also, I just now got my first pint, so, my dear sir, I am not drunk. Is it I who goes about and overcharges people for a service or him?" Pippin turned to the folk. "Whom do you trust?"
The crowd began to dissipate. They all wanted to get home to their wives and children before Frodo could reach any of them.
"Sirs, sirs, rest assured that Frodo shall not harm you – not tonight or any other night!" Pippin exclaimed as everyone left, leaving Pippin and Sandy alone. "Now look what your outrageous claims have done! Frodo's reputation is ruined forever!" shot Pippin to Sandy
"What is it to me?" Sandy asked, taking a seat.
"Nothing, apparently. It will only be something to you if someone discredits you! You snake! Leave."
"What did you say?" Sandy asked as he stood.
"Leave! And never lie about Frodo Baggins again! You dare mess with my family, my cousin in particular, again, you will have me to deal with, and I won't be this civil next time," Pippin replied, face red with anger.
Sandy left, satisfied with the reactions of the other hobbits. His plan was set in motion. Now, Frodo would not be able to go anywhere. He would be disowned by the Shire and forced to go live in Bree, the name of Baggins forever removed from the Shire.
A/N: Please, leave a review! Can I improve in any way? Be specific, please. Thank you all for reading! I only have one more chapter ready after this, so I hope you enjoyed this and will enjoy that one. I don't know when I'll get more chapters back. I'm patient, and I'm sure you all are, too. Besides, even if I had all the rest of the chapters back, my updates would be unknown. I have school back in, and already three late nights in a row! I'm so tired. Anyway...
TBC...