Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively. This is an amateur attempt. One which I am not making any profit over.
A/N: Thanks to those who've read and reviewed. This one is not really so much a drabble, as a one shot. Perhaps a combination of the two.
Enjoy.
Second Drabble: The Not So Perilous Journey
Frodo had been chosen to bear the One Ring of Power.
Eight other members were to have accompanied him on this perilous journey to the dark lands. They were to have made a Fellowship. A Fellowship of the Ring.
Until he came.
Sam, Merry, and Pippin did not know where he had come from, and would likely never know, as they were not important enough to. But Frodo was. He had been allowed to know — and he wished now that Gandalf had never told him. He wished now that he had not spoken up at the Council meeting, declaring that he, a mere hobbit, would willingly carry the Ring to Mordor; to the mountain of fire and death.
Perhaps if he had not done so then he would not be here, now, dangling in the air in a height that only those creatures bearing wings had ever been able to achieve.
But the creature Frodo was now riding did not own wings. Indeed, a creature it most certainly was not. Not hardly. A bit of wood was the only thi ―
"Don't worry, we're almost there!"
Frodo was not a person who was wont to complain about the difficult tasks life threw his way, but he had already been riding the wind for over three hours now, and that was a very long time. Especially for a hobbit. "I cannot see," he told his companion, who was sitting behind him.
"Er, I don't want to state the obvious, but you might try opening your eyes, then."
"I am too frightened to open them, Mister Potter, and even if I were the wind would surely sting them so much I would not be able to see either way."
"I can see the mountain now. Go on, open them."
Frodo did so. Then closed them instantly.
Mordor was not a very nice place.
"Now all you have to do is throw the ring into the fire. Simple."
"And Sauron cannot see us?"
"Course not. The disillusionment charm won't go away until I cancel the spell."
Spells. Charms. Broomsticks. Poor Frodo, he thought to himself. First the Ring, then those wraiths, now this boy wizard. Will you never be rid of this unwanted adventure?
xxxx
A/N: I know it seems like a pattern, but these drabbles won't all just be of Frodo.