Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Author's Note II: This tale came very close to being neglected. However, it made it through. I know last chapter I said AS was writing the rest, but I think it's still going to be me, with bits of it here and there by her. There's no telling what might happen, lol.

Oh, and thanks to all who reviewed for last chapter! I'd respond, but I just want to get this posted because I'm running out of time here! I'll get back, don't worry!

I did, however, want to comment back to Arwen: Thanks a billion for your suggestions in your review from last chapter, they were helpful. It is simpler for me to write about the Fellowship than the Harry Potter characters, I don't really know why. I will trying to furthur involve Legolas and Gimli, and I truly didn't mean for Legolas to be a "servant" even though as you pointed out, he was. LoL. There's also a good reason as to how Voldemort and his Death Eaters survived, to be explained later. Please forgive me, I'm new with chapter fics, and tend to forget things... Sword fights, don't worry, all in good time, I promise. Thanks once more!


Chapter 15: Regret and Repercussion

Frodo stood in the doorway of his room and cleared his throat. Sirius looked up from his station by the still-unconscious Harry's bedside. A hint of a tired smile turned the corners of his mouth up. Frodo stepped into the room.

"Good evening," he said.

Sirius nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Frodo found a spare chair, pulled it forward and sat down. "Better than I have been," he stated.

"Glad to hear it," Sirius replied, but he glanced at Harry as he did, something Frodo failed to miss.

"He'll be all right," he consoled.

Sirius snorted. "That's what they all say."

"And you don't believe it?"

The man fell silent a moment. "No. I mean, I do, but I just--"

"--worry. I know." Frodo smiled and Sirius returned the gesture.

"Sirius, I wanted to thank you for--"

"You don't have to," Sirius said, absently rubbing his eyes.

"Tired?" Frodo inquired.

"No," Sirius said, yawning.

"When's the last time you have slept?"

Sirius didn't answer.

"Awhile then. I don't mean to sound like a mother hen, but you should get some rest."

"But Harry-"

"I'll stay with him," Frodo promised. He could tell Sirius felt torn between wanting to stay with his godson and the sweet oblivion sleep swore to provide.

Sirius's shoulders sagged. "Alright, I'll go. Night, Frodo."

"Goodnight."

Sirius strode from the room and shut the door silently behind him. Frodo sighed and leaned back in his chair. He ran his fingers through his hair and flinched as they touched the still sensitive area at the back.

What a mess they had landed themselves in. They had only resided in this alien environment mere weeks and already he had brought the lives of himself and those he cared for into peril. He hadn't forgotten the towering figure in black that had reminded him so vividly of the Nazgul, but Gandalf had called a Dementor. Then the incident at the graveyard. And the dreams…

He could remember them now. Or at least he could remember having them. They were filled with darkness and the incoherent screaming of jumbled and unrecognizable voices. Then there came a blinding flash of light, as if all the stars had burst at once and were shooting their light across the world…and finally his own despairing howl of agony…

He didn't understand, was confused and afraid, for long ago in his past his dreams had sometimes turned dark, and unbeknownst to him until later, had foreshadowed terrible things yet to come…

And they were occurring again.

He pulled back his left sleeve with his right hand and looked upon the Dark Mark. He rubbed his thumb over it, as if only by feeling it could he comprehend its presence on his skin. It's warmth had faded sometime during the previous night, replaced once more by the constant cold he had grown used to over the years. Another scar had now joined the countless others, yet this one he had asked for. He wondered if when he returned home it would still exist, or if it would be gone, as if it had never existed. It was, after all, a scar of the future, of things to come, and the Shire existed long before its making.

"Darkness rose, and darkness fell, and with it so did I…" he whispered.

There was a soft sound at his side. "I'm sorry."

Frodo jumped, almost falling out of his chair, and looked to the side. Harry was sitting up, staring at him in remorse.

"What?"

"I said, I'm sorry," Harry repeated.

"What have you ever done to me?" Frodo asked, confused.

Harry swallowed and inclined his head to Frodo's forearm. "If I hadn't been so stupid…if I hadn't actually believed he was alive, that that was Sirius…none of this should have happened. I've risked everyone's lives, possibly the Order, it's all my bloody fault!"

Frodo blinked and shook his head. "Harry…"

"No, don't! The same thing happened in June! I led everyone into danger because I was too thick to realize I had to learn Occlumency, and then I believed that Sirius was in danger when it was really because of me that he died!"

Frodo looked at Harry with sympathy. 'Harry, if you only knew how akin we are…' he thought.

"I know how you got that," Harry spat, staring again at the Dark Mark. "I dreamt it. All of it. Because Voldemort wanted us dead, and he only agreed not to kill us because you offered yourself to him. But you don't understand, he would have killed us anyway! That's why he sent you to fetch me, isn't it? He's not blind, Frodo, he knew you'd be disloyal to him, he had the whole thing plotted! Wormtail collapsed the tunnel deliberately, Voldemort told him to. He didn't expect us to escape. But he's still not finished, because he knows you'll go back to him if you want to or not, and he'll use you like he uses everyone until he's won this war! And it's all because I couldn't see the truth!"

For a moment Frodo's mind was filled with images of blood and death and a shudder coursed through him. He hung his head but raised it again to meet Harry's darkened gaze.

"What you have seen in your dreams may or may not be certain. We have no control over what illusions the enemy places into ours minds to sway us to do their will. Voldemort will stop at nothing to achieve what he wants, he will plant seeds of doubt and visions of peace and security behind your eyes as a gardener plants roses until you can no longer decipher the truth from the lies. You will be driven past madness until your only focus will be that one evil, and you will loathe it and love it at once and your will shall succumb to it and you will not remember who you are or from whence you came. You must master it and refuse to believe whatever it tells you, or else you're ailing yourself, and eventually you will lose."

Tears fell from Frodo's face but he did not notice them. "You can't dwell on should haves and could haves--it is the worst thing you can do to yourself. When all this is ended, and evil has either passed or prevailed, your life will forever be a void of eternal darkness if you regret. It will eat you from within."

Frodo stood up and began to leave, but as he reached the door he turned around. "I have. To see such things occur to another would be my downfall."

He passed Sam on his way out, and the latter called after him, but Frodo did not acknowledge that he had heard. He found a backdoor and shoved it open, discovering that it led into a dead sort of yard hardly larger than a pantry. A sad-looking tree stood in one corner, black and dead, but he climbed it nonetheless and sat in its branches, head resting on his knees, weeping for himself and for all those he had ever brought pain upon, and for those, such as Harry, who were so young and yet had already endured far too much. He glared in fury at the abhorrent mark on his arm and wanted at that moment to slice deeply and cut it from his skin.

"Oh…sweet Eru…what have we done?"

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Frodo must have drifted off to sleep, because when he next looked up it was dark and he was cold. A light mist sprinkled the air. He blinked and glanced around. He gratefully noted that he had no company, although quite frankly he was surprised no one had come looking for him.

Something lightly dropped onto his branch and Frodo yelped.

"Forgive me, Cormacolindor, I did not intend to startle you."

Frodo sighed in relief. "That I am no longer, Legolas, though I once was. How long have you been here?"

"Since you have been. I prevented Master Samwise from coming after you with the promise that I would watch over you," the elf explained.

Frodo smiled faintly. "I thank you for that. Sam is a marvel, and the greatest friend I could ask for, yet…"

"It is not only mortals who feel the need for solitude," Legolas said.

Frodo nodded. "Indeed."

Hobbit and elf-prince sat together in peace. Frodo shivered and wrapped his arms around his body. Legolas removed his cloak and offered it to the hobbit.

"Hannon Le," Frodo said, taking it.

"The elves cannot catch cold as you can," Legolas said with a smile.

"What is the time?"

Legolas raised his eyes to the overcast sky. "Four hours past sunset."

"Really? Perhaps we should go in," Frodo offered, but didn't move to do so.

Legolas studied him. "There is much weighing on your mind. Will you not speak of it?"

Frodo gazed deeply into the darkness, not searching for anything nor seeing anything at all. What to say? Where would he begin? But despite everything else he knew that the core of his emotions came from the fear of his nightmares, yet he didn't know how to put their vividness into words.

"I've been dreaming, Legolas. And not pleasant ones."

The elf's brow furrowed in concern but he did not push the matter. "Come," he said, leaping gracefully to the ground. "Let us go back inside before it rains any harder and we become drenched."

Frodo nodded and climbed down after him. Once back inside he went back to his room and laid down on his bed. He could tell that Sam was awake in the bed on his left, for the room was absent of any snoring, but neither said anything to the other and eventually they drifted into sleep.

TBC!