A/N: Here's the second part of the chapter. It will end with Frodo's fiftieth birthday celebration—just kidding, Kurama had a lot more to say than I anticipated! Also, if any of you have read my other cross-over fics, you'll know that I try to balance power in them so no one character is curb stomping characters/challenges from the other fandom. Anyways, hope you all enjoy ~ love, depressedchildren

Chapter 3: Growing up in the Shire pt 2

3012

In the years following their first encounter with the elves, the pair had traveled much of the Shire, even camping beneath the stars rather than making the long trek home. They spoke with all they encountered and the child in Frodo's care quickly learned Sindarin in addition to refining his dream-language, Westron, and Hobbitish. In fact, upon learning that Gandalf knew all the tongues of men, elf, and dwarf, it became Dôranna's goal to learn all those languages too.

On one of their treks to Buckland, in part to visit Merry and Pippin, the duo came upon some of the new guards living on the outskirts of the Shire. They were tall, grave men and caused worry among many of the hobbits, but not Frodo. Dôranna was in awe of these men and even began imitating them when they encountered these men.

Frodo's heart ached as he came to realize Dôranna needed human role models. He had no friends because the hobbits his age and their parents were leery of the blonde child. He also aged differently than the hobbits around him, and part of Frodo knew it would not be long until his son would become a man. Dôranna was treated as a "other" by their neighbors, and Frodo knew he was lonely. He and his friends could only do so much for the boy, but it was clearly not enough.

Frodo had corresponded with his distant cousins in Buckland and had asked them if they could set up a meeting for him with some of these guards about having Dôranna stay with them for a time. It was with a heavy heart that Frodo left his son with Merry and Pippin so he could go to this meeting.

When Frodo arrived at the meeting space, there were three of these tall grim rangers waiting for him. The apparent leader stepped forward and greeted Frodo with a nod of his head. "Hello. You must be Master Baggins."

"Yes, and to whom do I have the honor of speaking," Frodo replied with an incline of his head.

"Halbarad. I lead the Grey Company in the absence of our leader," he stated. Frodo frowned.

"Has something happened to your leader?" he inquired with genuine concern.

Halbarad smiled slightly and shook his head. "No. I believe he shares an acquaintance of yours, Gandalf the Grey, yes?"

Frodo's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, your leader is the Dúnedain traveling with Gandalf?!"

"You know of this already?" Halbarad asked with clear concern and his shoulders tensed.

Frodo gave a reassuring smile and held out his hands disarmingly. "Only from elves leaving Middle-Earth," he explained, "and they only told me because I had inquired about Gandalf's whereabouts and health after making clear we were acquainted."

Halbarad relaxed his stance slightly and nodded. "I see, and how did you make your relationship with Gandalf clear to these elves?" There was a test in the ranger's words, but Frodo was not perturbed.

"They asked how my adopted son came to have an elvish name, I told them that Gandalf had named him."

It was almost remarkable how all three rangers' stances relaxed completely. "You must be a dear friend of Gandalf the Grey to have him name your son," Halbarad exclaimed, and Frodo smiled brightly.

"Indeed, I believe I am, but I do miss him and hope he is well," Frodo couldn't help but lament the last part.

The rangers all nodded sympathetically. "Last we heard, he was as well as one can be when pursuing the evils of this world," Halbarad stated solemnly, and Frodo frowned.

"And does your company hunt the evils of this world?" Frodo asked nervously. Perhaps he should not let Dôranna stay with them.

"Yes, we do, but my group is stationed around the shire, and the most evil we've spied have been wolves these past few years."

Frodo felt himself relax at the ranger's words and nodded his head. "Then perhaps it would be good for Dôranna to apprentice with you all, at least so long as the only dangers are wolves," Frodo hastened to add the last part.

The other rangers were smiling and seemed almost amused, while Halbarad raised an eyebrow.

"Dôranna?" the ranger questioned.

Frodo began to frown but slowly nodded his head. "You've heard of my son? I do not recall including his name in our correspondence," Frodo began almost accusingly.

"Gandalf the Grey had mentioned a young human by the name of Dôranna may benefit someday from training under the Grey Company," Halbarad explained quietly, and Frodo could not refrain from expressing his shock.

"Gandalf has talked about my son?!"

Halbarad nodded slowly. "In passing to our leader, but yes," the ranger explained.

Frodo bit at his lip. It was clear Gandalf thought Dôranna would benefit from training under these humans but…it unsettled Frodo some too. "Do…will my son be safe?"

Halbarad's expression softened. "I understand your concerns, Master Hobbit. No one can ever ensure the safety of their charges, but we can hope and can give them the tools to protect themselves."

Frodo closed his eyes and sighed. "You're right, but my heart is not yet ready to be parted from Dôranna."

When Frodo opened his eyes, he saw the rangers were giving him empathetic looks and smiles. Halbarad drew closer and set a reassuring hand on Frodo's shoulder. "Of course, and we need not taken him under our wing just yet. How old is he now?" the ranger asked.

"Not yet eight years," Frodo answered quietly.

"Then perhaps we wait two more years," Halbarad offered with a squeeze to Frodo's shoulder. "And then only for a short time, perhaps two months to see how he does?"

With a heavy heart, Frodo nodded his head. "Yes, that may just be for the best," he murmured. They arranged when and where they should meet in two years before parting.

Despite the worry and sadness, Frodo knew this was the right thing to do—even Gandalf believed Dôranna needed to socialize and learn from men. While Frodo knew this was the right thing to do, it still hurt more than the hobbit had expected.

…

3014

Dôranna had been eager to meet with the men guarding the Shire. He was so excited he hadn't realized his father had not followed him into the Old Forest with the rangers. His father had been saying for some time now that he would be staying with the rangers so he could become a man, but the boy had thought his father would come with him!

He was surrounded by tall men with ratty cloaks and scary faces; he missed is father! One of the men set a hand on his shoulder and the blonde boy had to crane his neck back to look the man in the eyes. It was so strange! All the adults Dôranna interacted with he could stare in the eyes without having to crane his neck back. It made him feel small, which was another novel experience—he was so used to being too big.

"Worry not, young Dôranna, you will see your father again in a short bit of time."

Dôranna chewed his lip, "You promise?"

"Yes," the man replied with a grave nod. "And know, I always keep my word."

The blonde believed the man and so nodded in return. "Thank you Mr….?" He trailed off questioningly.

The man gave him a lopsided smile. "Halbarad, and you do not need to say Mr." He paused and removed his hand from Dôranna's shoulder. "From now on, we will be companions in the battle to protect your Shire and all who reside within her borders."

Dôranna puffed up his chest and nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best to protect Papa and everyone else!"

Halbarad smiled and then ruffled Dôranna's hair. "Hey!" the blonde protested and tried to whack away his hands. "I thought I was your companion now?!"

"Of course you are," he replied seriously, but Dôranna caught the tilt of his lips that suggested amusement. The blonde glowered at the man with his arms crossed over his chest. The man laughed and ruffled his hair again!

"Oi!"

"If you don't like me doing that, then do something about it," he stated with a teasing edge. The blonde flailed and failed to protect his hair from being ruffled again. He'd get Halbarad back! Just you wait, he thought to himself as the other rangers in Halbarad's company began to ruffle his hair too.

…

It had been three months since he had last seen his father, and Dôranna knew instantly that something had changed. It sent a shiver up his spine when he went to hug his father. There was something wrong.

"Oh Dôranna, how I've missed you! You've changed so much too!" his father said as he looked over the blonde boy. Dôranna didn't think he had changed all that much—his hair was longer and messier, and he wore dirt caked traveling clothes with a leather jerkin, but those were just cosmetic changes unlike with Papa.

"You have too, Papa," Dôranna said and could not refrain from furrowing his brows. His father looked confused.

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"Something feels wrong," Dôranna said quietly in his dream-language.

His father went from confused to concerned instantly, and he cast a suspicious look at the men standing behind Dôranna. "Did something happen? Have you been hurt?" His father began to move so he was almost shielding Dôranna from the rangers, but the blonde shied away from his touch.

"No, something happened to you, Papa."

Frodo blinked several times. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly after a moment.

Dôranna chewed his lip as he tried to explain what he felt. "You feel wrong." The pained expression that passed over his father's face was like a slap, so Dôranna reached out to his father to try and reassure him, but immediately recoiled. "There's something…something icky, and wrong, and-and I can't explain it!"

As Dôranna failed to express himself, his father's expression became more downcast. He nodded his head slowly and looked at the ground. One hand reached into his waistcoat pocket and began to fiddle with something. The icky feeling grew, and the boy backed away from his father.

"Is everything okay?" Halbarad asked from where he and the other rangers were watching the reunion.

Dôranna saw a bitter expression pass over his father's face and the hand in his waistcoat pocket clenched tighter before he shook his head and withdrew his hand.

"I think Dôranna would like to stay with you all a bit longer, if you will have him," his father said with sad smile as he turned to face the rangers.

Dôranna frowned. Did his father not want him around or is it because of what he'd been saying before? "Papa?" he called quietly in his dream language.

His father gave him a sad smile. "It's okay, Dôranna. Being among your own people is a comfort I cannot provide you. I understand."

Dôranna's eyes widened at his father's words. He reached out to hug the hobbit, but that icky-ness radiated up from his father so much so that Dôranna pulled back like he was burned. It did almost burn—it felt…bad. His father just closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

"I love you, son. Stay safe," his father whispered before he bid them all a good day in Westron and began to walk toward Brandy Hall.

"Papa?" Dôranna called after him, but the hobbit didn't turn around.

Halbarad stepped forward and set a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" he asked softly, but Dôranna couldn't hear the ranger for he had begun to cry.

The rest of that day, each of the rangers he had spent the last three months with tried to console him, but it was no use. Eventually he fell asleep with tears still streaming down his face.

Dôranna woke to the feeling of something tickling his face. He sat up and blinked around him. He was in one of the fields outside of Bag End, but he and the rangers had made camp in the Old Forest!

Frowning, the blonde looked around him until his eyes alighted on the biggest cage he had ever seen. Stranger still, it was made with deep red bars instead of gray metal. The cage was pressed against some woods on the other side of the field—which is strange since there were no woods in the middle of the Shire, just small clusters of trees. Stranger still, these woods looked a lot like the Old Forest.

There was a noise like rolling thunder, and it made Dôranna start. "Over here, brat," a familiar deep voice growled in the dream-language from within the giant cage. Dôranna blinked several times before he stood up on shaky legs.

"Mr. Fox?" he called as he stepped closer and closer to the cage. Soon he was in the shadows of the Old Forest and before the giant bars. Two glowing eyes appeared from within the dark of the cage before a great red snout appeared. Dôranna craned his head back as more of Mr. Fox became visible.

"You're big," Dôranna stated, and Mr. Fox rolled his eyes before settling down toward the front of the cage. It is then that the boy noticed not one but two fluffy fox tails curling by the creature's massive side. The blonde's eyes widened, and he pointed at the appendages. "You have two tails!"

Mr. Fox reared up and scoffed like he was insulted. "I have nine tails!" he shouted and even turned around to reveal the fan of fluffy tails.

"They look so fluffy!" the boy cried and raced toward the cage in an attempt to touch one.

"What?!" Mr. Fox snarled as he glanced over his shoulder. He quickly whirled around and snapped with his giant maw at Dôranna's reaching hand. "They're not fluffy! They're a show of how powerful I am. You should be quaking in fear, you stupid brat!"

The blonde had pulled his hand away in time and now just blinked up at Mr. Fox. His hair had been blown back with each of the giant creature's words but still, the boy stayed in place.

"Why? You're Mr. Fox—you told me stories and taught me this cool dream-language. Why'd I be afraid of you?"

"Because I could destroy your beloved Shire with a flick of a tail!" he snarled angrily.

"But you're in a cage and you like nature, so why would you destroy the Shire?"

Mr. Fox made a frustrated growl and stalked toward the back of his cage.

"Mr. Fox?" he called after the retreating giant red form. When he got no response, Dôranna puffed out his cheeks and waited for Mr. Fox to be done sulking. After what felt like forever (but was probably only a minute), the blonde exhaled and decided he'd walk around the cage until he found Mr. Fox again.

As he began walking into the Old Forest, he looked around himself idly while one hand ran across the bars and made light tapping noises—surprisingly the bars were made of wood not metal as he'd initially thought. He began to whistle one of the songs the rangers taught him when something caught his eye.

He stopped his whistling, but the tune carried on. He followed the sound and, after coming around one of the thicker trees, saw Langlas. He was about to greet the ranger when the man turned to the side, as if to show off the snare he was working on. "Do you see the knot I've used?" he asked. There was a pause then he said, "No, you've made it too tight, now it won't close around the rabbit."

Dôranna stepped closer until he was sitting beside Langlas. He looked down at his hands and there was the snare in them. His fingers began to move on their own and rework the knot of the snare. It clicked then; this was his memory—he was in his mind!?

Dôranna shot to his feet and raced back toward the cage. On his way, he saw a memory of one of the rangers instructing him on how to hide properly in the trees so he could spring down upon an enemy or prey. Then another showed him how to make a proper fire pit that would keep the smoke hidden from far off enemies.

The blonde skidded to a halt when he finally found the end of Mr. Fox's cage. The giant, multi-tailed fox was curled up and might have been asleep but for the fact he had his glowing eyes trained on Dôranna.

"I'm in my mind!" he shouted, and Mr. Fox rolled his eyes.

"Took you long enough to figure out, brat."

Dôranna glared at the fox. "Well of course it did! This kind of thing isn't normal!"

"And the energy around your precious 'papa' is?" the fox sneered.

The blonde was about to give an angry retort but froze. "Do you know what it is? Did you feel it too?"

Mr. Fox scoffed and looked away from the blonde.

"Please Mr. Fox, do you know what's happening to him?"

"I don't know what is happening, but that energy is malicious, corrupting. It's been digging its way slowly in to your 'papa' for longer than you've been alive—if I had to guess." Mr. Fox said papa in a condescending way, whereas the last bit he said was almost dismissive. But the blonde had no real time to reflect on those things because there was a more pressing concern.

"It's hurting Papa!?" he shrieked.

Mr. Fox winced slightly and pressed his paws against his ears. "You're too loud, brat!" he snarled and then grumbled something under his breath. However, being such a large creature and with Dôranna right next to the cage, he heard Mr. Fox clearly say: "Just like your damn mother."

"You knew my mother?" Dôranna asked stricken.

He had heard the rumors circulating around Hobbiton. He was abandoned when he was newly born and none of the humans in the surrounding areas had claimed him. People whispered that he was a bastard child, and his mother was too ashamed to care for him. Worse, his father either didn't know about him or didn't want him either. Papa told Dôranna he had been found in the middle of the night like he had sprung from the ground—that's why Gandalf suggested the name Dôranna. Papa and Gandalf said he was a gift, but it was hard to believe that when everyone whispered those bad things about him.

Mr. Fox glared at Dôranna for a long moment, but the boy held the giant fox's menacing stare. It felt like an eternity passed before Mr. Fox narrowed his eyes like Papa sometimes did when something didn't make sense.

"You haven't asked why I'm in your head, brat. Are you stupid or something? Any sane person would have asked by now."

"Because you've always been with me, so I guess it makes sense that you're in my head." The blonde shrugged "Does this have to do with why you knew my mother. Did you live in her head too and tell her stories and teach her things?"

Mr. Fox growled, "Never!"

"Never to which part? Did you not live in her head?" Dôranna asked confused.

Mr. Fox growled for a moment longer before he huffed and dropped his head onto his crossed paws. "I was stuck inside her head, yes, but we didn't talk, and I would never teach her anything!"

The blonde looked thoughtful and sat down cross legged before the giant fox. "Is this like the stories you told of your siblings. The bad stories, I mean. The ones where the greedy humans couldn't be tricked or scared away?"

Mr. Fox looked momentarily surprised. "You remembered all those stories?"

The blonde nodded emphatically. "I'm sorry you and your siblings were hurt and separated. That's not fair or right!"

Mr. Fox looked taken aback for a moment before he huffed again and looked away from Dôranna.

It was quiet for a moment before the boy spoke again. "Did my mother put you in this cage? Did she have you in a cage in her head?"

Mr. Fox growled again but shook his head. "She and her predecessor chained me down and siphoned away my energy."

"Did that hurt?" Dôranna asked with tears brimming in his eyes.

Mr. Fox huffed again and continued to look away from the child.

"Does this cage hurt you?" the blonde asked quietly and began to reach out a hand for the giant fox.

"Even if it did, why would you care?" Mr. Fox snapped.

"Because you've always been here for me, and Papa says we should treat all living things with respect." Dôranna was earnest and now crouching before the cage as he tried to reach through the bars again so he could give the giant creature comfort.

Mr. Fox stood up and moved away from the bars—the movement shook the ground and knocked Dôranna onto his backside. In just a few strides, the giant fox was no longer visible through the gloom of the cage as he moved back toward the other end.

The blonde pouted for a moment before standing back up and walking so he'd complete a full circuit around the cage. On the walk back to his mental Hobbiton, he saw several more memories of his past three months with the rangers. He saw Prestadír teaching him to use daggers for when his sword has been knocked away. He saw Halbarad teaching him how to use a bow and sword. He saw Halbarad again teaching him to track a quarry. Langlas showed up one more time to teach him how to properly dress various animals.

Dôranna was smiling as he came back out of the forest, but it fell quickly because the Shire was before him again and Bag End was just up the hill. His heart clenched. He missed his Papa.

The blonde's eyes grew wide as he recalled what Mr. Fox had been saying before the child got side-tracked by possible news of his mother. He rushed back to the front of the cage.

"Please Mr. Fox, you have to tell me if Papa is going to be okay!" he begged, even falling to his knees before the massive creature.

"You're an annoying brat, you know that?! Don't know when someone wants some peace and quiet!?" Mr. Fox snarled as he leaned his head down to glare menacingly at the child.

"You're the one who talks to me in my dreams!" the blonde shot back. "So, I'd say that means you're pretty lonely and don't mind me talking to you!"

The giant fox huffed one more time before gesturing with his snout toward Bag End. "Why don't you look through your memories for a time you've felt that same energy and leave me alone."

Dôranna pouted at the giant fox before turning on his heel and stomping his way up toward Bag End. On the way, he came across memories of him playing with his Papa in the fields and learning all the different names for the various plants and animals around them.

When he got to the front garden, he could see Samwise Gamgee, the gardener, instructing Dôranna on how to properly take care of the various plants around them. The boy smiled at the memory but turned his attention to the big green door.

It swung open easily, and he was immediately met with a memory of Pippin chasing him around the foyer while Merry watched on and laughed. The dining room saw memories of Papa and all his friends having dinner and sharing stories. His bedroom held various memories of Papa tucking him in with his Mr. Fox doll. His father had gotten him a few other dolls to represent, as best as they could, Mr. Fox's siblings. There was a cat doll, a dog doll that had dark spots around its eyes, and a little turtle. Papa didn't know what a monkey was, and it was hard to explain it to him—same with most of Mr. Fox's other siblings. (How could a horse have a fish head or a bull a bunch of tendrils for legs? Dôranna also refused to keep slugs or beetles as pets given what Mr. Fox's siblings had gone through.)

Dôranna moved on to the rest of the used rooms of the burrow. The kitchen was filled with memories of his papa teaching him to cook, along with a vague memory of Gandalf's last visit. He moved to the cellars and saw a memory of him hiding with Fatty Bolger from Folco who had agreed to play Hiders and Seekers with him. He moved back toward the front of the burrow and came to the main sitting room which was filled with memories of language lessons and stories.

He moved on toward Papa's study and froze. There was a memory of Papa looking over some of the maps Bilbo left, and Dôranna had wanted to see them too. However, when he had entered the room, he had gotten a strange chill. He could feel it in the memory. Now that Dôranna thought about it, he seldom ever went into the study, even if his father would have preferred they do his lessons in there.

Dôranna backed away from the study slowly as his thoughts whirled around him. Papa kept something in the study, but in the three months Dôranna had been gone, he had begun carrying it with him. Whatever that thing was, it was—according to Mr. Fox—corrupting his father.

The blonde child hurried back toward the cage, even tripping over his own legs in his haste. When he got back to the cage, the giant fox looked annoyed but also amused—it was a strange combination.

"Is Papa going to be okay? He's carrying whatever was in his study!"

The giant fox settled down in the cage and placed his muzzle atop his crossed paws. "Whatever it is, it wriggles its way into his mind like a worm through dirt and leaves trails of its influence behind until its rooted in him." Mr. Fox sounded like he was enjoying himself.

Dôranna grew pale as his legs gave way under him. "So…it's hurting Papa," he whispered. The giant fox hummed—the sound of which was like the rolling of heavy stones.

"Most likely, but the hurt is mental."

The blonde child frowned in thought. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked as he stared at the grass below him.

"Perhaps," Mr. Fox muttered. "It appears to affect him like an illusion."

"Huh?" Dôranna had no clue what an illusion was.

Mr. Fox huffed and shook his head. "I keep forgetting you know nothing."

"Oi! I know lots! I know four languages!" the blonde said proudly.

The giant fox rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, how could I forget?" he drawled. The blonde crossed his arms over his chest and began to pout.

"Tell me, brat, do you think many people can feel energies?" Mr. Fox asked after a moment.

Dôranna pursed his lips in thought and scrunched up his forehead. "I don't know," he admitted after a beat.

Mr. Fox gave a long-suffering sigh. "The answer is 'not many.' From what I can tell, just that Gandalf person, and a couple of the elves you've met have been able to feel your presence"

The boy contorted his face in bewilderment. "How come?"

"Because you and—most importantly—I have a lot of energy. In fact, we have so much energy we could mold it into techniques that could affect the world around us." Mr. Fox sounded almost conspiratorial with this last bit.

"Could this energy help Papa?" Dôranna asked after a moment of thought.

The giant fox gave him an appraising look. "Perhaps, but it will take a lot of work."

"I'll do anything if I can save Papa from that icky energy!" the blonde announced with his head held high.

"Then you best push yourself to your physical limits with those rangers," Mr. Fox growled. "Don't let them baby you anymore."

The blonde nodded again and then stood up to look around him. "Hey, Mr. Fox, how do I get out of here?"

Mr. Fox gave low groan before there was a dull THUNK against the bars of the cage. When Dôranna looked back toward the giant fox, he saw the fox hitting his head against the cage bars which crackled slightly with energy. "Just will it. It's your mind, brat!" Mr. Fox growled before the child could express his concern for the giant creature.

"Oh, okay. I'll talk to you again some other time!" the boy said as he waved at the fox. He then closed his eyes and appeared back in the camp with the rangers. His eyes were crusted over from his dried tears, but he quickly rubbed them away.

Halbarad was on watch at the moment; he looked over in surprise at the blonde boy. He raised an eyebrow in question toward the child who just smiled.

"I need some parchment," Dôranna said simply, and the ranger just raised his eyebrow higher before reaching into his pack to find some parchment he used for missives between ranger groups.

With the parchment and necessary writing tools in his possession, the child began to compose a letter to his father.

…

Frodo was setting off down the road after visiting his distant family within Brandy Hall. While the visit should have been pleasant, Frodo only felt hollow and melancholy. He should have known Dôranna would grow repulsed by him after spending time with the bigfolk. He probably realized how unnatural it was for Frodo to raise him, just as many of their neighbors had said when they thought Frodo couldn't hear them.

As he dwelled on these thoughts, his hand dipped into his waistcoat pocket where the solid weight of Bilbo's Ring resided. He touched the smooth metal and felt marginally calmed.

He had felt lonely and restless these past three months without his son. So, he began spending more time in the study to look over Bilbo's old maps and the notes on Dôranna's dream language. Perhaps a week into this, his mind began to wander over to the Ring. His thoughts would stray to the simple band of metal over and over again until he finally took it out of its hiding space. At first, Frodo would take the Ring out to look at it for a moment or two before he'd put it back in its place. After a time, he began to worry it might go missing and so he started to keep it in his waist coat pocket—on a fob as Bilbo suggested. It seemed to be the only thing which soothed his worry over his son (or was it his worry over the Ring?).

"Frodo!" Merry called as he came running up to him.

The older hobbit startled from his thoughts and turned around to face the younger hobbit in confusion. "Did I forget something, Merry?"

The young hobbit panted and rested his hands on his knees so he could recover from his run. In one of his hands was a sealed letter. "No, no, nothing of the sort," he said between gasps. When he finally calmed down, he handed the letter over. "This came for you this morning!"

Who would be sending him a letter when he was already in Buckland?

When he accepted the parchment from Merry, his heart clenched, and his stomach twisted. He recognized Dôranna's slightly messy scrawl. No matter how much Frodo had worked with the boy on his script, it always came out slightly askew. Frodo reasoned his son rushed through his writing because it either was not nearly as engaging as other activities, or he was too excited to sit still and write carefully. So, while the sight of the words filled him with fondness, it also filled him with dread. Was his son renouncing him? Is Dôranna telling him he no longer wishes to live with Frodo?

"Frodo?" Merry asked worriedly as he reached out a hand to set on Frodo's arm. "What is it?"

"I fear he will tell me he no longer wishes to be my son," Frodo admitted. His throat kept trying to close around the words, but he managed to get them out, nonetheless.

Merry gave him a slight smile and shook his head. "My friend, that child loves you more than the world around him."

Frodo closed his eyes in pain as his hand curled tighter around the parchment. "You do not understand, Merry. He recoiled from me as if I disgusted him," he confessed with emotion choking his words.

Frodo startled when he felt the hand on his arm squeeze slightly. He opened his eyes to see Merry giving him a sad smile. "I am sorry that has happened, but surely this letter is his explanation or apology?"

Frodo tried to look his friend in the eyes but couldn't. If the boy he raised was disgusted by him, how long until his friends were too? For the past thirteen years, he had not visibly aged. Frodo overheard many of the other hobbits recounting how queer it was.

"Come now, Frodo, it can't be as bad as you're making it to be?" Merry tried to console. After a moment of continued silence, he added, "What if we read it together or I read it first to assure you there is nothing to fear in it?"

Frodo thought on this for a moment before nodding his head. "Very well. Let's read it together."

The two hobbits walked over to a small retaining wall built alongside the road under a hill. Once they managed to sit on the wall's lip, Frodo warily opened the letter.

Dear Papa,

I love you very much and am going to work my hardest so I can be with you again soon.

Mr. Fox told me there is a way to help you and to stop the bad energy from harming you anymore. However, Mr. Fox says I am too weak right now, so I need to stay with the rangers for a bit longer. I would rather be with you, Papa, but that energy needs to be stopped!

Mr. Fox says there are people in the world like me who can feel energies—Gandalf can and that probably explains why I could always tell when he was here. Anyways, Mr. Fox helped me realize that the bad energy around you was once in your study, and now that you're carrying it with you, it is trying to dig into your mind. I am not sure how that works, but Mr. Fox is going to help me learn how to fight it so I can keep you safe!

With all the love and fondest memories,

Your son Dôranna

"That was complete gibberish," Merry muttered, but Frodo only smiled.

"It's his dream language, Merry. We used the Westron alphabet to mimic the sounds of his dream language."

"And what are these added accents?" he asked as he pointed to one in particular.

"These accents indicate the intonation the words should be read with."

Merry hummed and tried to sound out several of the words on the paper and did a rather remarkable job—granted he had been taking lessons from Dôranna for some time on the oral part of the language. After a moment, he stopped and looked back at Frodo who was smiling down at the paper. It was a slightly sad smile.

"Well, what did he say?" Merry prompted.

"He is training so he can protect me," Frodo explained.

He was not sure if he should tell Merry that Dôranna could sense energies or that he felt a "bad energy" around him. In his heart, Frodo knew his son spoke of the Ring, but he could not fully believe that a simple band of metal could be "digging into his mind" or "harming" him. He wished Gandalf was here so he could ask the wizard for advice or even answers.

Merry hummed and gave his distant relation a long look before hopping off the retaining wall. "Well, it confirms your son loves you, right? So, all your worrying yesterday was just in your head. He will always be there for you, just as your friends will too," Merry stated with cheerful determination.

Frodo smiled once more and nodded. He then hopped off the wall and gave his friend a hug before they parted ways.

On his way home, Frodo questioned what exactly the Ring was and the implications of all his son told him. He'd long thought Mr. Fox was just an imaginary friend, but between the dream language, the stories, and now the advice Mr. Fox had apparently given his son…well, Frodo was wondering if Mr. Fox might be some sort of entity. It was something to ponder either way.

…

3016

Dôranna parried the blow from Gilvegil; he was an older ranger who'd joined their group in the last year after having come from Mirkwood. Metal shrieked against metal until the starburst hilt of Gilvegil's sword clanged with the hilt of Dôranna's standard blade. Apparently Gilvegil was gifted the gaudy blade by the Lord of Mirkwood, though no one was quite sure if it was a joke meant to poke fun at the ranger's name or not: Star-Sword.

Dôranna gritted his teeth and tensed his leg muscles before jumping backwards out of the deadlock. He had been working with Mr. Fox on imbuing his limbs with the energy circulating within him, but he had yet to figure out how to manipulate the world around him with the same energy.

Gilvegil hadn't anticipated the move and so stumbled forward, which gave Dôranna the chance to dash to Gilvegil's vulnerable side. Quickly turning the sword, he brought the flat edge of the blade to Gilvegil's side.

The old ranger gave a curse under his breath before chuckling. "Quick thinking and moves, little one," he praised as he straightened to his full towering height. Dôranna couldn't stop from beaming. "I marvel at how you are able to match the strength of opponents much stronger than you," the ranger added.

The blonde child scuffed his foot against the ground and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'm just that good?" he tried. Gilvegil narrowed his eyes slightly before shaking his head and readying his sword once more.

"We can't have you getting a big head, Dôranna," he began. "Come, once more we'll spar," he ordered before adding "then you can go help the young ones with dinner."

Dôranna began to whine. He didn't want to help Langlas and Prestadír with cooking! Since it was the seasonal meeting among the Shire guards, they had to make a lot of food for all the Grey Company members attending. When there were so many of the Grey Company together, they had decided it was best to have the youngest members do the cooking so there wouldn't be any fighting over the task. But that also meant Dôranna was often stuck cooking with those two rangers for these meetings and he was tired of it!

In that first year among the Dúnedain, Dôranna had learned there were six rangers guarding the Shire, but they were split into two groups to cover more ground. Now, there were a dozen which implied there was danger on the horizon. So, groups of three guarded the cardinal directions of the shire though they often converged closer to the eastern border for these meetings. It was at these meetings that a different trio of rangers would take Dôranna under their wing, so he had learned quite a bit from each of them.

The boy blocked, parried, and spun out of Gilvegil's attacks in practiced movements. He had grown more fluid and, while he still was several feet shorter than the rangers, he fought well enough. He just wished he could figure out how to manipulate the world around him with his energy as Mr. Fox said he could. He wanted to be back with his father already!

Dôranna's momentary lapse in concentration cost him, for Gilvegil's blade got past his guard. In an attempt to dodge it too late, Dôranna ended up slipping on the dead, wet leaves littering the forest floor. He landed hard on his back; the wind momentarily knocked out of him.

"Still think you're just that good?" Gilvegil teased, and Dôranna pouted before he accepted the old ranger's hand and stood back up.

"I was too eager and arrogant," the blonde child conceded while dusting off his already hopelessly dirty cloak. Gilvegil gave a good-natured laugh and patted Dôranna on the shoulder.

"Off you go, little one," he said, and the blonde nodded resolutely.

He walked away from the designated sparring clearing and began to make his way towards the camp the rangers used for the seasonal meetings. Sure enough, Langlas and Prestadír were busy preparing a whole boar over a spit. Dôranna's mouth watered at the different spices the youngest rangers had already rubbed into the beast's flesh—at least they knew how to cook.

"Dôranna," Langlas greeted him with his usual brilliant smile. Well, brilliant for a Dúnedain; they all seemed to have a similar world-weary and grief-filled smile, but Langlas' were always the brightest among the grim bunch.

"Hello!" Dôranna greeted back. "Gilvegil told me to help you prepare the food for tonight," he explained as he settled down beside the rangers. They both nodded like it made sense.

"Well, how about you start peeling the potatoes," Prestadír suggested as he passed the boy a rooting potato and then moved a burlap sack closer to the blonde child. Dôranna sighed but got out his dagger and quickly cleaned it before starting in on the potatoes. As they worked, the blonde began humming one of the many elvish songs he'd learned from the rangers. Langlas and Prestadír joined in after the first verse.

A sense of peace filled Dôranna as he sang the words. He imagined the lovers within the song meeting in the forest and the forest coming alive for them as they walked in its shadows. He could imagine how the boughs blocked out the prying eyes of the stars, and the flowers bloomed just for the lovers. He could imagine the wind bringing the sweet scent of flowers and honey to the lovers, perhaps playing with the ends of their hair.

Dôranna was so invested in the daydream he thought he felt the wind playing with his hair and making the remaining leaves on the trees rustle.

"Strange, the wind changed direction so—" Prestadír cut himself off, and Dôranna stopped his singing. The blonde opened his eyes and noted there was a small swirl of leaves off to his side that quickly settled.

"What's wrong?" he asked the ranger. Langlas was also giving the other man a curious look. Prestadír shook his head.

"Nothing," he tried to reassure them but a glance toward Langlas suggested the older ranger did not succeed.

"Come, friend! Tell us what has you troubled," Langlas cajoled, and Dôranna was quick to join the ranger in his efforts. Soon, Prestadír had the both of them practically hanging off of him and making their own versions of persuasive appeals—Dôranna just had to make his eyes wide and pleading and Prestadír usually caved fast.

"Ah, very well!" Prestadír began in exasperation. "You two are impossible together," he complained. Dôranna sent a mischievous look over to Langlas who winked conspiratorially back at the blonde.

"I just noted the wind had changed quite suddenly, it even seemed to be spinning about you, Dôranna," Prestadír explained, and the blonde frowned.

"Strange," Langlas commented, and Prestadír nodded his head emphatically.

"Yes, and the reason I did not want to discuss it. It was probably just a trick of the forest," the ranger dismissed with a pointed look to the old trees about them. It wasn't that uncommon for queer things to occur in the Old Forest.

Dôranna quickly nodded along with the others and then got back to peeling potatoes for they'd inevitably be used in some sort of stew tonight.

As dusk approached, more of the rangers began to gather about the campsite. They were all tall, dark-haired men (except those like Gilvegil who mostly had gray in his hair) with grim expressions. A lot of them were also named after weapons, wandering, or some characteristic that could be associated with stoicism, which felt a little on the nose to Dôranna. It was like their mothers decided to condemn them to lives of traveling and fighting by naming them such, though perhaps it was a cultural thing? Like how most hobbit women were named after plants, specifically flowers. Maybe Dúnedain men were named after ranger-y things?

Once everyone but those on watch were around the campfire and roasting boar, Halbarad stood and began the seasonal meeting. Dôranna quickly grew bored as the rangers droned on about the increased number of wolves they had seen baying at the borders of the Shire. The blonde perked up for a moment when Tirrandir mentioned some unsavory looking humans had come near the Shire from the south-east, but it turned out that they had lost the path of the Greenway. Dôranna slumped in his seat around the fire before idly picking up a stick and poking at the coals. It was always the same news, even if there were more rangers guarding the borders, the only troubles they ever had were wolves!

Halbarad started to chuckle, so Dôranna looked around for whatever joke had been said until he noticed most of the rangers were looking at him in amusement. The blonde felt his face flush in embarrassment. "I see you have joined our conversation again," Halbarad teased.

"It's not my fault it's the same news as at the last meeting!" he tried to defend himself.

"Indeed, and I suppose we should move onto more interesting matters," Halbarad continued to tease.

Dôranna decided to play along. "Like food?!" As the blonde suspected, this got several laughs from the rangers. He always liked making these grim-faced men laugh—he suspected they didn't often have reason to celebrate or cheer.

"Indeed, after all, it is someone's birthday," Halbarad said with his gaze fixed on Dôranna. Langlas and Saeradan sent bright smiles toward the blonde who was blinking in confusion.

"What?! It's my birthday already?!" the blonde exclaimed while standing up. Oh no! That meant he missed his father's birthday! "Ah, I need to write my father. I needed to write him a month ago!" Dôranna clutched at his hair and looked around the camp almost frantically for paper.

"Hold now, Dôranna, surely that can wait. Let us celebrate you being a year old, alright?" Calenglad suggested calmingly, and the blonde frowned.

"B-but I forgot Papa's birthday," he said quietly and on the verge of tears.

"And you nearly forgot your own too," Halbarad said almost pointedly. "You've been training for such a long time, child. It's time you celebrate and let your burdens down, even if only for one night, no?"

Dôranna guiltily bit at his lip. Branínaith was the next to try and convince the blonde to settle. He was one of the younger rangers in the company (still older than Prestadír and Langlas to get out of cooking with Dôranna though). "Come now, Dôranna, you can write him in the morning. It is not as if you could send him the letter tonight anyways," the ranger reasoned.

The blonde nodded slowly and, with that, the dúnedain celebrated the blonde's twelfth birthday over an excellently seasoned boar and mashed potatoes—one of his favorite side-dishes back in the Shire. The rangers shared stories and poems spoken in several different languages, including Sindarin, Westron, and even Rohirric. Radanir was the one to speak the last language, which led to Dôranna demanding he teach him Rohirric. Radanir said he'd only teach it to Dôranna if he could take a sip from the ranger's flask without flinching. Once the challenge was issued, the blonde took a swig but ended up coughing with his eyes watering. Needless to say, he did not like whatever drink was in Radanir's flask, even if it made the other rangers laugh to watch him try to drink it.

All in all, it was a warm and wonderful way to celebrate his birthday, even if Dôranna deeply missed his father.

When the blonde settled onto his bedroll to sleep, he was warm, full, and a little dizzy. Sleep came quickly and with it dreams of the different stories he'd been told. He was in the middle of a hazy dream about Beren and Lúthien when he felt a pull at his core. With a jolt, Dôranna found himself before Mr. Fox's cage and the giant fox looking at him unimpressed.

"Took you long enough, you brat. I'd been calling you for ages," Mr. Fox complained.

"Hello Mr. Fox," the blonde greeted. It was best not to rise to the fox's anger; besides, the chipper responses always seemed to annoy the fox more.

"Don't 'Hello Mr. Fox' me, I've got something important to say."

"Okay," Dôranna replied with a smile as he sat cross-legged before the giant multi-tailed beast.

Mr. Fox growled at Dôranna's cheerfulness but quickly got to the point. "When you were singing that elvish song, remember how the wind moved?"

"It was probably just the Old Forest playing tricks," Dôranna dismissed.

"No, it wasn't!" Mr. Fox snarled, which left the blonde blinking in confusion. "It was you!"

"Huh?" Maybe Mr. Fox was getting crazy stuck in that cage. "I thought you said I had to do those hand sign things and push my energy into my hands to make things respond in the world." The blonde child even demonstrated several of said signs—he had gotten quite dexterous at it even though nothing came from the exercise (no matter how much chakra he pushed into his hands).

"Yes, well apparently that's not how Middle-Earth works!" the fox snapped. The giant creature was looking off to the side in both anger and embarrassment.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was wrong, alright? Are you happy now!" Mr. Fox huffed.

"I mean, I already understood that you were wrong," Dôranna said dismissively which made Mr. Fox bristle in anger. "I'm just asking what you meant by Middle-Earth working the way it does. It kinda sounds to me like, well, there's another world where I should be able to use my energy like you say I should."

Mr. Fox froze before relaxing. "Damn, don't tell me you're some genius like your bastard-father," he muttered.

Dôranna frowned. "You're talking about my sire, right?" Mr. Fox huffed and rolled his eyes before nodding. "So, you knew my mother and father? Were you in both their heads?"

Mr. Fox growled in annoyance. "How many times have I asked you to drop it?!"

"Then stop bringing up my parents or just answer my questions!" Dôranna shot back.

"You're a real pain, you know that?!" Mr. Fox complained, but the blonde just gave the giant fox an unimpressed look.

"So you've told me in order to avoid answering my questions," he drawled. "Just answer them, Mr. Fox."

Mr. Fox growled low for a long moment, and the blonde fixed the multi-tailed creature with an unrelenting glare in return. Minutes passed before the giant fox thrashed in his cage while cursing. "You're a real pain," he reiterated once he'd settled. He was sulking with his snout resting on his crossed paws.

"Uh huh. Now, are you gonna answer some of my questions or what?" Dôranna asked almost flippantly.

"Fine!" Mr. Fox snapped, and Dôranna did his best to keep his triumph off his face—he knew the giant fox would cave eventually.

"As best as I can gather," multi-tailed creature began, "we're in some different world or dimension."

The blonde raised one eyebrow questioningly, but the fox continued before the boy could speak. "This Middle-Earth, it's not where you or I come from."

"Like we're from the Undying Lands? Or the Halls of the Valar?" Dôranna asked with his head cocked to one side.

Mr. Fox made an affronted expression before glaring off to the side. "Look, I don't quite remember how we got here. I was in a lot of pain at the time and had just been stuffed inside of this new seal," the fox paused to glare at the red bars of his cage, but this was concerning news

"Seal?" Dôranna asked before the fox could divert attention away from his discomfort.

"Yeah, seal," Mr. Fox admitted with a sigh. When the blonde continued to look at him in confused concern, the fox elaborated. "Remember when I told you about my younger brother? The one those humans locked in a jar?" Mr. Fox prompted, and Dôranna paled.

"Am I your jar?" he asked on the edge of tears. "Are you still in pain, Mr. Fox?"

Mr. Fox exhaled through his teeth and looked away from Dôranna, "Don't get all weepy for me, brat."

"But if you're in pain—"

"I've had worse seals, like you mother's and her predecessor's."

Dôranna's eyes widened. "Because they chained you down! Oh, Mr. Fox, I'm so sorry they did that!"

Mr. Fox made a frustrated noise as he continued to avoid looking at the blonde child. "Oh, stop that, will you! What's done is done!" he huffed. Dôranna was about to open his mouth to express further remorse for the creature's condition when the giant fox snarled, "I don't want your pity, brat, so just knock it off!"

Dôranna wanted to protest and explain that it wasn't pity he held but genuine concern for the fox's wellbeing, but he knew that would only set the fox off more. So instead, the blonde child waited for the great beast to continue his story.

"Where was I?" he asked Dôranna after a moment.

"You didn't know how exactly we got here because you were in pain and disoriented," Dôranna prompted almost diplomatically.

"Right, well I knew we were in a different world because everyone should have chakra, energy," Mr. Fox added the last word at Dôranna's confused look. "Instead, it seems like only select elves and that old wizard guy have any kind of energy—but even that energy isn't quite like chakra."

Dôranna wanted to listen respectfully and ask questions later, but he couldn't sit on them any longer. "What is chakra then?"

Mr. Fox looked displeased at the interruption but sighed and answered the question. "Chakra is the balance between spiritual and physical energies, a mixing of the two into a harmonic balance. That's why I've been telling you to meditate on your energy before bed and to do more running or strength training," the giant fox explained. Dôranna hummed in recognition.

"You can also have elemental energy within chakra," Mr. Fox continued, "be that through conditioning or a natural predisposition. I suspect you have a natural affinity for wind given your earlier display."

"What earlier display?" Dôranna prompted.

Mr. Fox growled again. "That's what I wanted to talk about from the start, but somebody wanted to know about their parents!" he snapped.

"Alright, alright," Dôranna tried to placate the giant fox. "Tell things how you want to then."

Mr. Fox took a moment but eventually resumed his story. "As I had said, where we're from, everyone has chakra. Plus, there aren't any hobbits, dwarves, or elves. Sure, there are little people in the elemental lands, but none have feet like hobbits. I can't say if they're similar or not to dwarves, but that's beside the point.

"Everyone has chakra, but some people have more of it and can access it. When a person can do this, they usually become a ninja and fight for whatever idiotic country they hold allegiance to," Mr. Fox bared his teeth in disgust at this last part.

"Did they always have chakra? Where did it come from?" Dôranna asked before another thought came to him. "Are these different countries why you and your siblings were hunted? Were you hunted by ninja?"

Mr. Fox glared at Dôranna until the boy got the message to quiet down. "Yeah," Mr. Fox responded at last, "the ninja started hunting down me and my siblings and trapping us in seals like this"—Mr. Fox gestured with his eyes at the red bars around him—"within humans. They learned that doing this gives their country more power."

"Why?"

"Because humans are greedy—"

"No, why would you and your siblings give these countries more power?" the blonde child interrupted.

Mr. Fox blinked before growling. "Because we're pure chakra you brat!"

"Well, I didn't know that! You never told me!" Dôranna defended himself, which led to both of them looking off to the side with a huff. "Why don't you just tell me where chakra comes from and why you and your siblings are entirely made of chakra, okay? Maybe that will help!"

Mr. Fox glared at the blonde child for a long moment, so Dôranna raised an eyebrow in return to challenge the giant fox. The blonde was beginning to suspect the fox knew but didn't want to tell him.

"Well, from what you've told me, maybe we are from Eru's realm! Maybe that's where chakra comes from. Maybe you're some secret pet of the Valar, huh, have you thought that?" the blonde challenged. He was trying to goad the giant fox into spilling the truth; the infuriated growl he received told him he'd succeeded.

"No, you insolent child! Chakra comes from Kaguya, Mother of Charka! She created the Ten-Tailed beast which ravaged the world until her sons sealed her away into the moon and siphoned the Ten-tails' chakra away!" Mr. Fox was panting now before his eyes widened in shock at what he revealed.

"So, she was like the evils in Angmar?" Dôranna asked. The rangers rarely talked about what happened in the north, but the blonde had caught bits and pieces though still didn't really understand what had happened.

"No, she was worse. She subjugated the whole world with an illusion," Mr. Fox said with a resigned sigh.

"Did she trap you in the illusion too?" Dôranna asked sympathetically.

"I wasn't alive yet," Mr. Fox confessed. He held up a paw before Dôranna could ask his next question. "I and my siblings were created from the Ten-Tailed Beast. Remember how I said Kaguya's sons siphoned its chakra away, well Hagoromo created us out of that charka. Hagoromo was one of her sons," the fox added the last bit as if anticipating Dôranna's next question. (It was going to be his next question, but Dôranna was going to keep that fact to himself.)

"So…" the boy began slowly as he tried to understand what all the giant fox had told him. "This Hagoromo is kind of like Eru then, and you and your siblings are like the Valar—powerful, ageless and with your own domains, right?" Framing things this way made the most sense to Dôranna. Mr. Fox sputtered in outrage before relenting and nodding his head (likely understanding this would be the easiest way for the blonde to understand the concepts).

"So…the ninja trapped you and your siblings to gain power over their enemies instead of respecting you all." Dôranna didn't like that one bit. "That's awful! I'm sorry that's happened. Is there a way I could let you out?"

Mr. Fox glared off to the side as he stilled. Dôranna called for the fox's attention but he didn't respond for a long moment.

"There's no way to completely release me from within you, not without killing you and destroying a large swath of this land. Then again…" Mr. Fox trailed off and seemed to be frowning in thought. "I'm not sure I could exist outside of you in this world. It doesn't have chakra, so how would I exist out there?"

"What do you mean?" Dôranna asked quietly.

Mr. Fox sighed and settled his snout back on his crossed paws. "You manipulated the world around you while you were singing that song."

"Huh?"

Mr. Fox made a frustrated noise. "You know that…song about the lovers walking in the forest," he mumbled like he was embarrassed. "You felt the wind didn't you, and Prestadír said it had been swirling around you," Mr. Fox hurried on as if to save himself from ridicule—not that Dôranna would do such a thing (he was actually rather happy Mr. Fox liked the song and knew his companions' names). "But how the chakra manifested itself was…it was no longer chakra when it left you."

Mr. Fox was clearly perturbed by all of this, and Dôranna couldn't help but frown too. "So, if I was able to release you from this seal, it could either kill me or do something to you because chakra doesn't exist outside of my body?"

"That's what I'm beginning to think," Mr. Fox confessed.

They were both silent for a while as they thought about everything they'd discussed.

"Neh, Mr. Fox, did someone take you out of my mother? Does that mean she's dead?"

Mr. Fox shifted for a moment in discomfort. "Yes. Her control over me and the seal on her were weakened when she was giving birth to you. While your damn father was trying to make sure I wasn't released, some Uchiha bastard took advantage of both their distractions. The bastard even put me under an illusion and made me attack the village! Then your father stupidly gave his life to seal part of me in you." The last sentence was grumbled and sounded almost petulant as the giant fox pouted.

Dôranna blinked several times as he tried to process all of that. "First, what village? Is this one of those awful greedy countries? Second, what's an Uchiha? Third, why would my father do that?"

Mr. Fox cleared his throat in unease and stopped his pouting. "Well," he began, "your father was the leader of the village Konoha, which is in the Country of Fire. So, yes, I suppose you could say Konoha is one of the greedy countries." Mr. Fox seemed uncomfortable about something.

"Mr. Fox, what's wrong?"

The great beast made a frustrated growl and looked over to the side. "You know, your pain-in-the-neck parents loved that village, and it really wasn't as awful a place as some other countries." If a fox could blush in embarrassment or shame, Dôranna suspected Mr. Fox would be. "I mean, they gave their lives trying to stop that Uchiha bastard controlling me from destroying the village."

Dôranna furrowed his brow. "Mr. Fox, you don't need to feel bad for what happened. You said you'd been controlled right?"

"I still…I still killed her, kid," Mr. Fox admitted quietly. "She might have been loud and chained me down all the time, but she was my last container and…" he trailed off as he made another frustrated noise.

"Mr. Fox?" Dôranna called for his attention gently. A gleaming eye glanced over to him. "It's okay. That Uchiha person, he's the one at fault here. Besides, I never knew her and even if I did, I'd still forgive you because it was out of your control."

Mr. Fox snorted and glared off away from Dôranna, but the blonde could tell it was an attempt to maintain his gruff and angry appearance. In fact, Dôranna suspected the fox was moved by the blonde's words and had needed to hear that he had the boy's forgiveness.

Mr. Fox cleared his throat after a moment and glared at the blonde boy, "What are you looking at?" he practically yelled.

"I'm just waiting for you to explain who exactly an Uchiha is and why my father would seal you into me?" It was probably for the best if Dôranna didn't draw attention to the fox's emotions.

"Right, well, Uchihas are a clan with eye-techniques. One particularly annoying ability is using illusions to mind control. There's a bunch more their stupid red eyes can do, but it pisses me off just thinking about it so—" Mr. Fox cut himself off with a growl and then shook his head. "As for the blonde menace, he knew sealing me away would kill him anyways, and he probably had some stupid noble ideas about not burdening anyone else with me. Probably had ideas that you'd be able to handle the stigma that comes with being a container or some such."

Dôranna nodded his head slowly. He could put the pieces together. His sire was the leader of a greedy human village, and Dôranna's mother had been the previous "container" of Mr. Fox, which gave said greedy human village power over other greedy human villages. The blonde could infer that being a "container" for Mr. Fox came with stigmas from the humans within Konoha and Dôranna's sire did not want to burden anyone else with such stigmas. The fact these villages put people and Mr. Fox's siblings together only to ostracize them painted a more negative view of these humans from his home world. However, Dôranna's birth parents truly loved their village and were willing to die for it and for him. Perhaps Konoha was a greedy human village, but that was what all human villages in his home world were like—to point out this greed would be like explaining to a fish what water was. To the fish, water was just the world around them and had no other distinction. To these human villages, greed for power was the foundation of their civilization.

Perhaps Dôranna would be able to convince Mr. Fox to tell him more about Konoha and this other world; but, for now, he would not push matters.

"Thank you for telling me so much, Mr. Fox." He gave the creature one of his brightest smiles. "I know it wasn't an easy topic, so it means a lot that you told me what you have. I hope someday, you could tell me about my parents, even though you're not their biggest fan!"

Mr. Fox glared to the side and exhaled through his teeth. "Get out of here already, brat! Maybe try singing some more and see if things happen, yeah?"

Dôranna couldn't help but laugh and nod his head, "Alright! Take care, Mr. Fox. And thank you again!"

Mr. Fox grumbled something while the blonde child began to focus on returning to his dreams. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt after learning everything he had, but he was also glad to have learned it. Now the question was whether or not to tell Papa.

TBC

A/N: I've made Kurama super tsundere! My goodness! As for the likely contention to come up from the power balancing…well, you gotta have challenges your characters must overcome. Also, I think it's justified. Kaguya brought chakra to the Elemental Nations due to her tree-thing-chakra-fruit. Eru and the Valar already had a foothold in Middle Earth, which they then inundated with magic, and I could see Kaguya going: "Nah, too much work—I'm a look elsewhere." Therefore, if magic exists here yet charka does not, chakra would theoretically have no place in the laws of this world. However, Naruto, Zetsu, and Obito all had chakra when they arrived in Middle Earth and therefore created a paradox in the laws of said world. The solution: chakra must be changed if it is to exist outside of the body. Ergo, imbuing muscles with chakra or using a Kamui that is touch based (and therefore within the body still) is feasible but water dragons and chakra cloaks would not—unless the chakra was adapted and changed to magic.

Final note, yes, I took names from the LOTR online game for the rangers because it was truly awful trying to come up with Dúnedain names. Like all of the ones I came up with ended with randir (wanderer) or had sword in the name because I hate coming up with character names. Seriously, it is the thing I hate the most when I'm DM-ing. Like, if my players come across random NPCs and ask for their names, I just give up and let them name them or pull up a name generator. Ugh. Anyways, the rangers, while most of them were taken from the online game, do not necessarily have the same characteristics as those characters.

I hope to update in a month, so around May 1st. Stay safe ~ much love, depressedchildren