Title: In Clear Focus
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: I own nothing other than the story plot and am
in no way profiting from this writing. The symptoms and treatments
described in the story are strictly for entertainment purposes and
should not be considered medical information or advice.
_________________
It was early evening. Frodo Baggins had just watched the sun set over Rivendell. The sight of the mountains glowing like fine gold, the sky with its delicate peach and lavender tints and violet clouds was exceeded only by the faces of his friends who had been so concerned about him and his healer who had taken such good care of him. Seeing these things again, indeed seeing anything again in clear focus and without pain, so overwhelmed him that he fell to his knees and poured out his heart in thankful prayer.

*****************
It was the first morning after Elrond’s council. It had to be morning, Frodo thought because he felt so well rested. Why was it so dark in his room? He tried to blink, but could not. Obviously, something was terribly wrong. Had the Nazgul blade taken his vision? What if Elrond had missed a fragment and it worked its way up to his eyes? Without thinking, he dashed into the hall, still in his nightshirt, only to slam into a wall.

A female voice gasped and its owner was at his side in a heartbeat. “Let me help you,” she said. Her voice was steady, but full of concern.

“What’s wrong with my eyes? I can’t open them!” Frodo cried.

The elf slipped her hand under Frodo’s jaw and lifted his face gently. “Your eyes have been stuck shut with dried exudate,” she told him, “but come, let me attend to you. My name is Arwen.”

Arwen carefully led the terrified hobbit back into his room and sat him down in a large velvet armchair. After wrapping a quilt around Frodo to keep him warm, she knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Breath with me,” she instructed him, taking a deep breath herself, “in through you nose, out through your mouth….”

Frodo complied; he trusted Arwen. She seemed gentle and caring, just as her father had been and maybe she could help him without the others having to know. As Frodo calmed down a bit, Arwen excused herself, explaining that she was going to boil water for his medicine and get a cool cloth for his cheek. Hot tears came to Frodo’s eyes and quickly unsealed them, but what replaced the darkness wasn’t much better. Everything was blurred. Would he ever see in clear focus again? Not expecting Arwen back for some time, Frodo allowed his tears to fall freely. He was startled to hear her gently speak his name. Looking up at her hazy form, he tried to apologize, but instead of answering, Arwen took him into her arms and began to sing an elven song. Soon Frodo was crying openly. It was a much-needed release for all the emotions that he had kept bottled up until that point.

He was almost asleep when there was a knock on his door. Who could that be? He hoped it wasn’t one of the Fellowship. He wouldn’t want them to see him like that.

“Frodo, are you all right?” someone asked anxiously.

Frodo’s heart sank when he recognized the voice. Strider, of all people! The co-leader of the Fellowship was going to see him in the arms of his future wife weeping like a hobbit of ten! What would he think of the Ringbearer now?

“You may come in, Aragorn, but please do it very quietly,” Arwen told him.

Accordingly, Aragorn came in and walked quietly over to the chair to look at Frodo. Frodo shut his eyes quickly, hoping Strider would believe he was asleep.

“I suspected something was wrong when Frodo didn’t come for breakfast,” he told Arwen softy. “Is he sick?”

“Yes, he has conjunctivitis,” Arwen explained.

“Pink eye. Yes I noticed last night that his eyes seemed to be bothering him. I was going to speak to him about it but he had already gone to bed.”

“His eyes were stuck shut this morning which was very traumatic, as you can imagine,” Arwen continued, removing the cloth from Frodo’s cheek, “and he hit a wall which accounts for this bruise.”

"All this when he had barely recovered from the Nazgul wound,” Aragorn commented. “So much to happen to anyone in so short a time.”

Frodo’s distraught state of mind kept him from hearing the compassion in Aragorn’s voice, so when the ranger reached out to gently touch Frodo’s hurt cheek, the hobbit gasped and jerked his head away.

“Oh, you are awake!” Aragorn said cheerfully. “It’s all right, it’s just me, Strider. Let me have a look at you.” He tried to gently turn Frodo around so he could examine him, but Frodo just held tighter to Arwen, burying his head in her arm and sobbing with an irrational sense of fear and humiliation. Aragorn didn’t understand this, but knew better than to try and force it.

“All right, Frodo. I won’t touch you again if you don’t want to me too,” the Ranger assured him. “Have you treated him for the condition?” he asked Arwen.

“I put the water on, but there are no herbs, and getting them would have meant leaving Frodo alone in this condition. I was going to do when he was asleep. If I remember correctly, he needs equal parts of eyebright, goldseal, bayberry and raspberry leaves, and half a part of red pepper seeped in a pint of water.”

“He does indeed, and I can get them. It would be best if you stayed with him for obvious reasons. And Frodo,” he said softening his voice as he again tried to with him. Frodo lifted his eyes tentatively. “I know this very upsetting, but please try to relax. Conjunctivitis is very common, and very treatable.”

Arwen resumed her gentle rocking as Aragorn left the room. “You mustn’t be afraid,” she whispered to Frodo, “Not of Aragorn, he cares more about you than I do and it would impossible for him to think any less of you for something that isn’t your fault.”

Frodo thought about this until he fell asleep again.

Frodo was holding Sam's hand as they both stumbled along a narrow, winding path that seemed to be crumbling under their feet. Their strength was failing fast in the intense heat and the only sources of light were rivers of burning rock flowing all around them. There was no escape; he and Sam were at the very end of things, but for some reason, he didn't feel afraid.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice called to him. Somehow, he didn't sound afraid either.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam called again, but his voice seemed to be coming from another place.

Then Frodo noticed that he seemed to laying a bed. The cool, bitter smell of herbs and the strong scent of tea tree oil hung in the air, and he could hear some kind of liquid being poured into containers. Startled, he opened his eyes and saw Sam's hazy form sitting next to him.

"You were having a dream, sir," Sam explained, "and it didn't look like a very good one either, from the way you were twitching and all."

"Well, Sam, it wasn't, but I feel somehow.." Frodo let his voice trail off. He didn't know how to explain, but he felt the dream and his feelings while having it meant something significant. It was almost as if this unfortunate incident with his eyes was meant to prepare him for something bigger during the quest.

"Sam," he said reaching for his friend's hand and holding it against his heart, "I'm glad you're here with me." He meant it sincerely.

"Thank you, sir. I'm glad I'm here with you too," Sam told him, feeling touched, but a little confused. "Mr. Merry and Mr. Strider are here with you, too," he added. "And Lady Arwen is going to give you some medicine for your eyes."

"It may sting, Frodo," she cautioned, "and you may not see any change after the first, or possibly second treatment, but this solution is very effective when given time to work."

Merry and Strider came into view. If Frodo could see clearly, he would have noticed they were smiling at him and looking relieved to see him more at ease. Then Arwen came over to his bed carrying some flannel towels.

"The first thing I'm going to do, Frodo," she explained, "is put a warm towel over your eyes to dissolve the exudate so the healing herbs can work more effectively. Are you ready?"

Frodo nodded, thinking anything had to better than the way he was feeling now. Arwen was just about to begin the procedure when Pippin burst into the room and darted over to his bed.

"Oh my goodness!" he shrieked. "Frodo's eyes are as red as tomatoes!"

"Pippin!" said Merry sharply. If looks could kill, his cousin would have been on the floor.

"Well they are!" Pippin insisted. "And look at his lashes, they have yellow slimy stuff hanging from them!"

"Pippin! That's enough of that! NO MORE!" Merry snapped.

Pippin would have said more, but Aragorn grabbed him from behind and firmly escorted him out. Once out in the hall, Pippin realized his mistake; he had been very insensitive.

"I'm sorry, Frodo," he called.

"I forgive you, Pippin," Frodo called back. It wasn't easy, but he meant it. After all, Pippin was still young often impulsive. Besides, forgiving this irritating companion of his might also be good preparation for the quest, assuming Frodo ever became well enough to go on the quest.

*****************

About two hours had passed since Frodo's first treatment. Merry and Sam had been with him the whole time, reading to him from his favourite books, and trying to encourage him. Pippin brought Frodo his favourite foods from the kitchen, trying to make up for his earlier behaviour. There was a knock on the door, and after being admitted, Arwen entered with her supplies and washed her hands with tea tree soap.

"Hello, Frodo," she said, "how are feeling?"

"Better, Lady Arwen, thank you," Frodo replied. "My eyes have been cloudy most of this time, but sometimes they clear up for a minute or two."

"Definitely an improvement," she assured him, checking his eyes briefly. "Are you ready for another treatment?"

"Yes, ma'am," Frodo replied, bracing himself. He knew this wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was small price to pay for being able to see in clear focus.

Arwen removed a soft flannel towel from a basin of warm water and wrung out the excess water. Pippin helped her by carefully arranging more towels under Frodo's head.

"Is it too hot?" she asked, placing the corner on Frodo's temple. He shook his head, so she gently laid the rest of if over his eyes. Merry and Sam held his hands and comforted him as Arwen carefully wiped his eyes from the inside corners out and then administered the herbal medication. Frodo bit his lip to keep from crying out and squeezed his friends' hands tightly, but he forced himself to keep still, with his eyes open. Arwen smiled sympathetically when she finished.

"It will get better," she assured him. "When your eyes have shown more improvement, we can dilute the medicine so it won't sting as much. And Frodo, the other members of the Fellowship would like to see you soon, if they may."

"They want to see me?" Frodo asked. He had been hoping to avoid that, not knowing how they would react.

"Most definitely, not an hour goes by when they don't ask me, or ask Aragorn how you are. The concern is obvious on their faces."

Frodo was surprised. "I was sure they were annoyed with me for holding up the quest," he admitted.

"Frodo, remember what I told you," Arwen admonished him gently. "This was in no way your fault. Aragorn could never be annoyed, or think any less of you because of it, nor could anyone else. In fact, their respect for you has increased. You were wounded by a Nazgul blade, volunteered to carry the Ring when no one else had the courage, suddenly lost most of your eyesight, and yet you remain determined to go through with the quest. Everyone considers you remarkably brave."

The other hobbits smiled and gave Frodo a big group hug. They were touched by what they heard, but not surprised. Frodo truly was an amazing hobbit. Frodo himself was overwhelmed. What could he say to this? Choking with emotion, he tried to think of words to express what he was feeling. Finally he said, "Lady Arwen, please tell them, thank you very much. I feel honoured and touched more than I can describe. I would love to see them, but after eyes are healed more, because I could never forgive myself if I infected them too.

"As you wish," said Arwen with a smile. As she left, Frodo found himself actually looking forward to his next treatment.

Frodo woke late the next morning to find a tray by his bed. Sam had opened the blue velvet curtains and their shears and was admiring the intricate silver embroidery around the edges. Sunlight poured in the room, and Frodo cringed biting his lip to keep from crying out. The gentle splashing sound of the fountain outside his window gave no comfort. Nothing would until the room was dimmed.

"Sam, this is too bright," he said, pulling the sheet over his eyes. "Would you shut one of the curtains? And close the shears completely."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," Sam exclaimed as he scrambled to do as Frodo asked. "Does it hurt your eyes? I didn't think of that."

"I don't think hurt is the right word, Sam, but it's terribly uncomfortable. Plus I'm still seeing rings around any kind of light which is very annoying." Noticing Sam's reaction, he softened his voice and smiled reassuringly. "Still, I appreciate your trying help. And what do we have here?" he gestured towards the tray with the covered plates.

"You missed breakfast, Mr. Frodo," Sam explained, "first and second breakfast. So I brought this for you."

"Thank you, Sam," Frodo said as he uncovered the plates. There was herbal tea, mushroom omelets, a stack of pancakes with blueberry syrup fried potatoes and a bowl of mixed fruit. "All my favourites, too. What a pleasant surprise!"

Sam blushed and shyly lowered his eyes. Frodo was about to offer him part of the breakfast when some elves entered bringing breakfast for Sam. Before either of them could say a word, the elves had set up a hobbit-sized table for them, with an ivory coloured tablecloth and a sunflower centerpiece with some coloured leaves.

"I'm feeling a bit concerned about you, Mr. Frodo," Sam told him, after they had overcome their surprise and enjoyed breakfast together. "You haven't left this room since yesterday morning and you've only talked to your cousins and Mr. Strider and Lady Arwen because they came in here. Beggin' your pardon, sir, but I don't think it's healthy for you."

"I appreciate your concern, Sam but really, it's best this way," Frodo explained. "My eyes feel like they're full of sand, except when I blink, then everything looks blurred and I honestly don't know which is worse. So I wouldn't be very good company for anyone."

"I'm sure they'd all understand, sir," Sam told him awkwardly. He wasn't sure that was the right response, but he felt he had to say something. Frodo was clearly unhappy and Sam could sense that the reason was more serious than just his physical condition. It might even have been more than the task of being the Ring-bearer. This troubled Sam greatly, but he didn't know what to do about it.

The door opened suddenly. Frodo, still in his nightshirt, looked down at the Ring for a second. Then he looked up to see who was in his room. To his relief, it was only Pippin and Merry. Sam glared at them for barging in as they did. He would have said something but Frodo, now over his shock and embarrassment gave Sam a look to indicate that he didn't want that.

"Good morning, Frodo," said Merry, sounding characteristically upbeat. "We missed you at breakfast, but you look like you had a good meal here."

"Sam brought it for me, all my favourite foods," Frodo said, giving Sam a friendly touch on the shoulder. "I was going to share it with him, but the elves brought him his own breakfast and set up this table for us, so we ate together."

"Speaking of elves," Pippin said offhandedly, "Lady Arwen is going to be here any minute with your medicine so you might want to.... "

Frodo jumped up, threw his clothes on and brushed his hair, almost before Pippin could finish the sentence.

"Thanks for reminding me, Pip," he said breathlessly. "I don't know how I could have forgotten."

"Not a problem," Pippin said cheerfully. Then he added, "You look good, cousin. Even though your eyes are still as red as tomatoes."

They both laughed about that. It sounded funnier than it had the first time.

Arwen arrived a minute later. As the standard greetings were exchanged, Sam cleared the table for her supplies and Merry and Pippin straighten the bed so Frodo could lay down. They knew the routine by now and gathered around supportively, being careful not to get in Arwen's way.

Arwen had just placed the warm, moist towel over Frodo's eyes when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Pippin called without thinking.

"NO!" Frodo cried trying to jump off the bed. He was certain he would die of embarrassment if anyone saw him in such a vulnerable position. His friends scrambled to his side as Arwen gently restrained him.

"Frodo, may I come in?" asked a familiar voice.

"Could you wait for just a few minutes, Aragorn?" Arwen asked calmly.

"Of course; take all time you need," replied Aragorn pleasantly.

"Nothing to worry about," Arwen soothed, turning her attention back to Frodo. "Remember, you're among friends. Now just relax. Breathe as I showed you. In through your nose, out through your mouth.."

Frodo complied and lay down again. Most of the anxiety left him, but not all of it. He nodded for Arwen to continue her procedure, which she did when she was sure he was calm enough.

"Come in, Strider," called Frodo reluctantly when Arwen had finished.

Aragorn entered and the standard greetings were exchanged again while Arwen cleaned up and washed her hands.

"How are you feeling, Frodo?" Strider asked, giving the hobbit a smile as he sat next to him on the bed.

"Better, Strider, thank you," Frodo replied, as he returned smile and hoped he didn't seem as uncomfortable as he still felt. "My eyes are still bothering me, but I'm seeing clearly, except when I blink and they don't stick together anymore."

"And you don't have yellow slimy stuff hanging from your lashes anymore," Pippin said with a laugh. This time the others laughed too, including Frodo.

"They should feel all right in another day or two, " Aragorn predicted as he examined them, " although, there may be some redness for a while after that. And how's your shoulder?"

"It's better than it was. It still hurts, but really I haven't given it much thought lately with my eye infection."

"I can understand that," Aragorn commented, taking Frodo's pulse, "but of course, your shoulder is going to longer to heal than your eyes."

"I think Frodo should rest now," Arwen told the other hobbits. They hesitated but she assured them, "You can see him again at lunch time."

That was good enough for Pippin and Merry. They allowed her to show them out with no further questions. Sam reluctantly left too, after Frodo gave him a nod indicating that he should.

"Coming, Strider?" Pippin called over his shoulder.

"Strider's one of his healers," Merry reminded his cousin as they strolled into the hall.

"Oh, of course!" Pippin replied with an embarrassed laugh.

The sound of their voices grew fainter as the door closed gently behind them.

"So, how are you really feeling?" Aragorn wanted to know, as he still held Frodo's wrist in his hand.

"How am I really feeling? Well." Frodo tried to force himself to keep still and look at Aragorn, but he could feel himself starting to sweat. His free hand wandered involuntarily up to his collar and undid the top buttons. "Do you find it hot in here or is it just me?"

He heard nothing at that moment but saw a shimmer of burgundy velvet from the corner of his eye, and felt a soft, gentle hand on his shoulder. Arwen! It was with great difficulty that Frodo kept himself from breathing a sign of relief. He knew it made no sense, but he was feeling terribly vulnerable at that time and Arwen's presence comforted him in a way that nothing else could.

"Your vital signs seem to be fluctuating," commented Aragorn with a smile. Frodo sighed with resignation and let his eyes drop. What could he say to that?

"You asked me how I was really feeling," he said at last. "I assume you were referring to my mental condition. And you're probably wondering why I spend so much time in this room?"

"Yes, Frodo, we all are," Aragon told him gravely, releasing his hand at last. "You've been so reclusive this last day and a half, I wonder if you would even be eating if your friends didn't bring your meals to you."

"Well, as I was telling Sam, my eyes feel like they're full of sand," Frodo began, sounding like he was reciting something he memorized, "That, of course is terribly irritating and I'm afraid if that someone accidentally annoys me I might." Frodo's voice trailed off. His attempt to remain dignified fooled no one and he knew it.

"I'm afraid," he finally admitted flatly. "That's what it is. I'm just plain afraid." He had already known in his heart what his problem was, but he didn't feel able or willing to admit it, even to himself.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow slightly. Of course Frodo was afraid, but what was he afraid of?

"Not of you, Strider," Frodo added quickly. "You've seen me worse off than this. Indeed, I wouldn't have survived Weathertop if it weren't for you. And I'm not afraid of anyone else here, really. It's just.well. I don't know."

"Everyone has great faith in you, Frodo," Arwen reminded him, still rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"Yes, I know they do. In fact, when I said I would carry the Ring, they all looked at me like. well, they seem to think that I'm so courageous, that I'm not afraid of anything, but now this relatively insignificant thing comes up and I'm too frightened even to leave my room."

"Is it their respect that frightens you, Frodo?" asked Arwen. "Are you afraid of failing short of their expectations?"

"Yes! That's it exactly!" Frodo cried, relieved that someone finally understood. "What if I fail them? What if I fail all of Middle Earth?"

"There are no guarantees for any of us, Frodo," Aragorn reminded him gently. "We all have our tasks appointed to us and all any of us can do is give our best."

"Do people know how frightened I am, Strider?" asked Frodo apprehensively, but no longer feeling alone.

"Of course they do, Frodo," he replied with feeling. "There isn't a person in Rivendell who isn't afraid. These are dark, frightening times for all of us. That's why it's so important that we all stand together. Is that not right, Arwen?"

"Yes, of course it is!" exclaimed Arwen, looking up suddenly. She had kept silent through most of the conversation, focusing her attention on helping Frodo feel at ease, but was startled to notice that her comforting hand had moved ever so slightly, towards the chain with the Ring.

"So, I guess I should start preparing for the quest?" Frodo asked. "I should learn how defend myself, among other things?"

"I wouldn't try anything serious just yet," Aragorn cautioned. "It wouldn't be safe with your eyes not quite healed, but you could certainly study the maps and research the areas we're going to be traveling through. At the very least, come get to know everyone, especially the rest of the Fellowship."

Frodo looked for a minute as if he intended to do so, but quickly became hesitant again. Although he no longer felt the need to be alone, he still needed some quiet time.

"Well." he said, "I.if you don't mind, I think I'll go to library start studying the areas as you suggested."

"All right Frodo, but you're not to hide in there," Aragorn told him firmly.

"I promise not to." Frodo smiled confidently and rose from his bed for the first time. "I feel quite a bit better now. Thank you both very much and I'll see you this evening, if not sooner."

As they walked with Frodo to the door, Arwen dropped back a few steps unnoticed, and gave her head a quick shake. She had to cut off some disturbing, unwanted thoughts about the Ring that had somehow crept into her mind.

Frodo stepped into the library and stood motionless, overwhelmed at what he saw. The library was as large as the Shire and the books and scrolls, which seemed to deal with every subject imaginable, were grouped topically in the appropriate sections, each section many times larger than Bag End. The gleaming, dark red shelves reached three times Frodo's height. Even the lights were impressive. They were made of fine crystal and highly polished copper. The scent of some particularly fragrant roses drifted through the open windows, as rosemary and lemon oil burned in the lamps. The only sound Frodo could hear was the splashing of a fountain in the garden outside the window.

When his mind had adjusted somewhat, he noticed a large site map of the library on a table near the entrance and scanned it, grateful that Bilbo had taught him to read Elvish. He had never been as comfort with it as Bilbo was however, he noticed on the map that there was an area where the material was written exclusively in the common language. Feeling relieved, he quickly went over to the area and prepared to study the geography south of Rivendell. The first thing he looked at was a map of the Misty Mountains, the highest of which was Caradhas.

I certainly hope we won't be going there, Frodo thought. Such a high altitude would be most unpleasant and the cold...

The minute that thought came into his mind, a searing pain ripped through his left shoulder, the same pain he felt right after Nazgul had stabbed him but many times worse. Frodo wanted to scream, but the pain disappeared before he could. He kept absolutely still, terrified of making it start again. Nothing happened for a full five minutes so he tentatively went back to studying the map. After he had become more familiar with Caradhas than he was sure he would ever need to be, he slowly reached for some books about Lothlorien. The pain did not return. When he had become well versed in the history and politics of Lothlorien, he glanced at a detailed map of Mordor. His hands shook slightly as he reached for it. He knew how important it was to be well informed about every aspect of the quest, but what if the pain came back? Did he dare take the risk? He lowered head and prayed silently for a minute about what to do. Finally, he took the map and glanced over it quickly.

Nothing happened. Then he began to study it in more detail. Again, nothing happened. The Hobbit exhaled with relief, thinking he must just have had a muscle spasm in that shoulder.

After about two hours of studying and making mental notes, Frodo felt the need for a break. He was also becoming hungry, but instead of going straight to the dining hall, he decided to take the long way through the garden. When he got outside, he was again amazed at what he saw. Trees that looked like they were decades, if not centuries old surrounded the garden.

They look just like the party tree back home, Frodo thought with a smile.

In the shade of these trees, there were chairs made out of twigs and many types of flowers growing in tall grass. In the bright area of the garden were roses in every colour imaginable, and at the center was the fountain he had heard in the library. The fountain was surrounded by pale green marble and cast its white water spray as high as the trees. Frodo watched in amazement; then he saw his friends. Pippin and Merry were sitting by the fountain chatting and Sam was standing off by himself admiring the roses. Then Pippin looked up and saw Frodo walking towards them.

"Frodo, you're up, how splendid!" he exclaimed as they both ran over and hugged him.

"How are you feeling, cousin?" asked Merry enthusiastically.

"Much better, thank you," Frodo replied, "And this time it's true!" Then he noticed Sam glancing hopefully at him from where he was standing.

"Come here, Samwise," Frodo said firmly, even though his eyes were twinkling and he could hardly keep from laughing.

Sam stepped forward shyly, but then he too laughed happily as Frodo hugged him and affectionately laid his head on Sam's shoulder.

"Oh, Boromir asked us to say hello to you," Merry said, "I just remembered."

"Who?" Frodo asked.

"Boromir, the other Man who's probably going on the quest. Would you like to see what he taught us?" Pippin asked eagerly.

"Of course I would," Frodo replied, as he and Sam rose and stood back to give them room.

Pippin and Merry drew their Hobbit sized swords and began to demonstrate their new fighting skills. As the swords made contact, Frodo began to feel an unaccountable chill creep over him, which he tried to ignore. It quickly became apparent that his cousins were developing some skill with the blades. Frodo forced himself to keep watching and smiling, not wanting to spoil things, but a sense of dread began to grow in his heart and get stronger with every move he saw. He stood up and took a few steps, resisting the rising temptation to flee.

Suddenly a bright green hummingbird buzzed past Pippin's head on its way toward the flowers. Startled, Pippin lost his balance and fell into the fountain with a gasp. Frodo didn't see that, however. All he saw at that moment was total darkness. Some brilliant orange lights flashed at him and he was sure he heard three words whispered in the dark: Failure. Weakness. Death.

"NO!" he screamed involuntarily.

"Don't worry, Frodo, I'm not hurt," Pippin assured him with an embarrassed laugh, trying to climb out of the fountain.

Frodo simply stared uncomprehendingly, with the look of horror still frozen on his face and in his eyes.

"Well, I may have scraped my elbow, but it's nothing I can't handle," he added quickly. Again his cousin gave no response.

"Frodo, look! Pippin. is .all. right," Merry spoke slowly and turned him around so he faced the fountain as Pippin climbed out.

Sam, meanwhile, had dashed across the yard the second he heard Frodo cry out.

"Strider!" he shouted. Aragorn, who had been on his way to the library, reached their group without a second's hesitation. "What's going on?" he asked, dropping to his knees in front of Frodo.

"I think Frodo's sick!" Merry exclaimed, he and Pippin understanding at last.

"That's what I thought. Frodo, are you in pain?" he asked, putting his hands on Frodo's shoulders.

"He must have been because he screamed!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Master Peregrin, let Frodo answer please," Aragorn requested, through clenched teeth. "Are you in pain, Frodo?" Frodo looked at Aragorn and shook his head. He looked pale and was trembling noticeably, but he managed to use Arwen's breathing technique to keep his composure.

"Have you had any pain since we diagnosed you with conjunctivitis?" Aragorn continued.

"Irritation in my eyes, yes, but no real pain," Frodo replied, still breathing deeply and slowly as Arwen had taught him to.

"Good. Come over here please." Aragorn gently led Frodo to the area where the light was best, when Merry and Pippin weren't obstructing it.

"Tell me exactly what happened, Frodo," Aragorn requested calmly as he again knelt before the frightened Hobbit.

"We were showing him what Boromir taught us," Merry began quickly, "and then."

"Meriadoc, you are not helping!" Aragorn told him, visibly annoyed

"Oh. Sorry about that but..." Merry then noticed Sam was glaring at him and so he decided he better not say anymore.

"As Merry was saying," Frodo explained, "they were showing me what they learned, but I wasn't able to pay much attention. I.I felt a panic attack coming on, I think. I've never had a panic attack before, but I assume it must feel like that. And... and then everything went black and I thought... I saw these bright orange flashes."

"Did feel that you were about to fall or lose control of your body in any way?" Aragorn continued as he gently examined Frodo's eyes.

"No, at least I don't think I did. I wasn't think much about my body in a physical sense but." Frodo wanted to tell Aragorn everything but it was going to be difficult, especially with his cousins' constant interruptions.

"But what, Frodo?" Aragorn asked quietly. Merry peered over Frodo's shoulder to hear his response, but quickly drew back a bit when Aragorn gave a sharp look. Frodo looked down, and shook his head.

"You must tell me, Frodo," Aragorn pressed him gently.

"Can we help, Strider?" Pippin asked, also leaning over Frodo's shoulder.

"Yes! Get out of my light!" Aragorn snapped.

Pippin and Merry jumped aside, without a second's hesitation. Even Sam moved from Frodo's side a bit. Aragorn felt rather bad for shouting at them, but they were making the examination difficult and he could see they were upsetting Frodo. Under the circumstances, necessity had to take precedent over pleasantness.

"When I was in library, I got a sudden pain in my shoulder," Frodo continued, after taking a deep and forcing himself to look up again.

"Your left shoulder?" Aragorn asked still sounding calm, but with an unmistakable urgency in his voice.

Frodo nodded. "Right were I was stabbed, in fact the pain was worse. But it disappeared in less than a second," he added quickly.

"Frodo, I think we better have Elrond look at you. Come now!" Aragorn got to his feet without another word. Frodo gripped Sam's hand tightly.

Aragorn left the garden with Frodo and Sam almost before he had finished speaking. Frodo, in his anxiety, was holding Sam's hand uncomfortably tight. Merry stood indecisively after realizing that he was being left behind but decided quickly to attend to Pippin, whose well-being he considered his primary responsibility. Pippin naturally objected to this, wanting to go with Frodo but Merry quickly pointed out that their cousin was in good hands and Pippin would be no help to him if he became sick himself. Besides, Merry promised, they would soon find out together what was happening to Frodo. There was sense in this, Pippin realized as he reluctantly went with Merry back to their room.

Sunlight streamed gently through vine-covered arches as Frodo and Sam followed Aragorn inside, but none of them noticed that. Large urns made from sky-blue coloured marble lined the halls. The flowers and ferns planted in them ordinarily would have interested Sam greatly. The ever present sounds of the fountains and the birds singing and the lingering scent of the pine oil that burned in lamps at night would also have been a source of pleasure to them, Frodo in particular. They would have reminded him of the long walks he used to take with Bilbo through the forests and, earlier in his life of the picnics he used to have with his parents. At this time, however, they were all preoccupied. Frodo was trying to understand what had happened to him. Aragorn was deeply concerned about Frodo, mentally and physically. Sam, while no less concerned was hoping Frodo would let go of his hand soon, or at least loosen his hold on it.

"Do you know what's wrong with him, Mr. Strider?" Sam asked, trying to not think about his hand.

"I have an idea, Sam but I'm going to let Lord Elrond talk to him..to both of you about it," Aragorn replied. Both hobbits gasped, and stared at Aragorn in disbelief.

"You're not going to tell us anything, Strider?" Frodo asked pleadingly.

Seeing that his statement had shocked and upset them, Aragorn stopped walking and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "I know it's difficult," he said gently, "but trust me it's best this way. Lord Elrond has been a healer for centuries; he knows more than I ever will."

"But can't you at least give us an idea what the problem is?" Sam protested.

"Yes, Strider, there's nothing worse than not knowing," Frodo insisted.

"It isn't overly serious," Aragorn relented slightly. The Hobbits looked at him questioningly. "If I thought you were in any danger, Frodo, I would have told you in the garden."

"Really?" Frodo gasped. His eyes widen slightly, but with relief.

"Yes, Frodo you know I wouldn't keep something like that from you. Now come, his study is just down this hall."

At the end of the hall, however, they found the door of Elrond's study was closed and Arwen's voice could be heard inside. It quickly became apparent that she and Elrond were having, if not an argument, then a serious discussion so Aragorn and the hobbits stood respectfully back to avoid overhearing anything and waited silently for the door to open, each with their own thoughts. Aragorn was observing Frodo, closely but discreetly watching for any change in his physical condition. Frodo, in an attempt to keep his mind off his own problems, was reflecting on the Elves on the situation they were facing. Their time was over, whatever happened and they knew it. If the Ring fell into Sauron's hands, their people would be destroyed along with the rest of Middle Earth. Unlike the other races, Elves had the option of crossing the sea to escape but even so, Frodo suspected many of them would be slain before they got away. The Elves that survived would live forever with these horr ible memories constantly before them.

What kind of life would that be? Frodo wondered. I expect even they escaped, many would die of broken hearts and they might be the fortunate ones.

On the other hand, if the Ring was destroyed, their kingdom and all they had created and established over the centuries would fade. They would have to leave Middle Earth, as there would nothing left for them there.

And the Hobbits, what would happen to them? Of all the free races, they would probably suffer the most under Sauron's rule. Because Frodo, the Ring-bearer was a hobbit, his people would be the first to face the Dark Lord's wrath if the quest failed, and it would be cruel indeed. Frodo shuddered when he thought about this. So much depended on him and his strength.

The Hobbits back in the Shire, of course, knew nothing of this. They had no worries about the future or fear of the present shadow. They were going on with their daily activities as happy and carefree as they had always been.

.Just the way Sam, Merry and Pippin were a less than a year ago, Frodo thought. And they way they should still be. Bringing them into this was wrong.

Then he quickly got another thought: he hadn't brought them into this. They choose to come. Was it an informed choice on their part? Did they fully understand what they were getting into? Frodo didn't have the answers this, but he had enough sense to realize he didn't have the ability to overrule his friends' freewill. But then again, what if he did have the ability? Would it have been right for him to use it? That would have kept his friends out of danger, but it would also have denied them their freedom. Wasn't that what this was all about, protecting peoples' freedom?

Elrond's door opened at that minute and Pippin and Merry dashed inside, seemingly from out of nowhere. Merry was without his jacket, he had removed it the garden and put it around Pippin's shoulders to keep him warm until he changed. Pippin was wearing dry clothes, but no jacket or vest. Both Hobbits were slightly dirty, having taken a short cut there through a seldom-used supply tunnel. "What happened here and where's Frodo?" Pippin demanded breathlessly.

Elrond and Arwen looked first at each other, then at the two young Hobbits, trying to make some sense of this unexpected intrusion. Aragorn dragged Pippin and Merry into the hall and scolded them for their impertinence as Frodo blushed scarlet and apologized frantically his cousins’ behaviour. Sam gratefully massaged his now free hand to restore the circulation. Merry and Pippin just stared down at the floor, hoping it would open and swallow them up. Fortunately, both Elves were forgiving, even amused when they got over their shock.

When things finally settled down, Aragorn explained the reason they were there, keeping a watchful eye on Pippin and Merry the whole time. He would have made them leave, but they begged to be allowed to stay, insisting their only concern was for Frodo. Aragorn considered this. It was against his better judgment but he guessed he couldn’t fault them for their concern, only the way they had acted on it. Finally, he let Frodo and Elrond decide.

“Frodo, do you want them here?” he asked. Frodo didn’t really, but the way they were looking at him touched him too deeply to say no. Elrond was also willing to allow it, as long as Pippin and Merry didn’t interfere with anything.

Frodo looked around the room briefly, hoping to distract himself temporarily from what was happening. It was quite impressive, similar to the library with its dark red furniture and row upon row of books and scrolls, all appropriately filed, though on a much smaller scale. The same type of unusually fragrant roses grew on the balcony and the same lemon and rosemary oil burned in the lights. Pretty much everything about Rivendell was impressive, Frodo realized. He wished he could take some time to appreciate it, but he had tried that earlier and seemed to have caused his problem now.

“Sit here up if you would, Master Baggins,” Elrond directed, walking over to a high table in the corner. Aragorn closed the silver curtains to make the examination as accurate as possible. Sam stood next to Frodo and bravely offered him his other hand, knowing Frodo was quite understandably afraid.

“One word out of either of you, and you’re both out!” Aragorn warned Pippin and Merry. They both nodded frantically in agreement. Arwen, more sympathetic, knelt down behind the young Hobbits and put her arms around their shoulders as she gently explained to them what was about to take place. Frodo smiled and waved to her discreetly from across the room. As Arwen smiled back, she tried not to notice that he seemed to move his hand over to where the Ring must have been. That was just a coincidence of course, she thought.

Elrond had Frodo follow his moving finger with his eyes. Then he lit a special lamp that he used for this purpose and asked Frodo to look straight ahead and keep his eyes open wide. This was easily done, because Frodo’s eyes were already wide with anxiety. Aragorn moved closer and put his hand on Frodo’s shoulder, speaking a few words of reassurance. Sam held Frodo’s hand with both of his and said nothing as Frodo’s grip again began to tighten.

“This is probably going to be uncomfortable,” Elrond told him, “perhaps even painful unfortunately, but it will over less than fifteen seconds.” He gave Frodo what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and then continued his examination. Frodo counted to fifteen silently and again used Arwen’s breathing technique to keep from crying out as the bright light flashed in his eyes. To his surprise and relief, however it was over as quickly it began. The other Hobbits were equally relieved, seeing Frodo go through that had been stressful for them as well.

“You did very well,” Elrond told him putting the light away. “Are you all right?” Frodo nodded, letting his head fall back against Aragorn’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

“Tell me exactly what happened, Frodo,” Elrond requested, after a brief consultation with Aragorn.

“Did Aragorn not tell you already?” Frodo snapped uncharacteristically as he raised his head again. This took Aragorn aback; the other Hobbits exchanged disbelieving glances. Even Elrond raised his eyebrows slightly but recovered from his surprise before anyone noticed except Frodo and Aragorn.

“Yes he did,” Elrond explained gently, unfazed by Frodo’s show of irritation. “I need to hear it from you too, however. You were, after all the one experiencing the symptoms.

“I understand,” Frodo replied, feeling slightly bad now that he sensed the Elf lord’s compassion for him. “Please forgive me, Lord Elrond. I meant no disrespect.”

“I know.” Elrond smiled at Frodo. “These are hard times for everyone to say the least; for you more than any of us, Frodo.”

“I doubt anything can be done about that,” Frodo stated in a resigned voice. “This is my appointed task; no one can do for me. Now regarding your question…” Frodo described the pain he had felt and the darkness and flashes as in as much detail as he could. Elrond looked as if he was remembering something unpleasant, but he said nothing until Frodo had finished talking. “And then I was sure I heard these words: weakness, failure, death,” Frodo concluded looking at Elrond for his interpretation of these things.

“What you described sounds very much like a vision of Mount Doom,” Elrond told him gravely. “In the Chamber of Fire where the Ring must be taken, the burning rocks are the only source of light amid the total darkness.”

“I seem to remember having a dream about that,” Frodo said, his voice sounding distant. “And the pain I felt in the library, I thought it was just muscle spasm, but now that I think about it, it was too serious for that.”

“Do you understand what was happening?” Aragorn asked quietly.

Frodo nodded, it was becoming clear now. “The Ring was trying to tempt me to put It on and be set free from this torment, or panic and throw it to the ground where someone would be tempted by it. And the really frightening thing is, I almost did. I almost gave in to it. Resisting its power took almost all of the strength I had.” Frodo shuddered when he thought about this.

“But you did resist,” Elrond reminded him. “And when the Nazgul king stabbed you, it must have taken all the strength you had to resist that power too.”

“Well yes, but Aragorn saved me and the other Hobbits distracted me from the pain. I wouldn’t have survived without all of them. Even before that, Nazguls attacked us on the road to Bree. I felt an overwhelming temptation to put the Ring on then too.”

“And what stopped you?” Elrond continued.

“I remembered Gandalf telling me how dangerous the Ring was, and having my friends around reminded that I had things and people to think about other myself.”

“And before any of this, Frodo,” Aragorn wanted to know, “was there any another situation in your life so bad it took all your strength to get through it?” Again Frodo nodded, looking down.

“When I was twelve years old,” Frodo said quietly, “I suddenly lost both my parents in a boating accident. When I first found out, I was so devastated I didn’t even want live any more. Fortunately, I was staying with my other relatives and they helped me see, that my parents would have wanted me to get on with my life and be happy. So I did; it was the best way I knew of honouring their memories.”

“Gandalf was correct; you have some strength in you, my dear Hobbit,” Elrond told him with a warm smile.

“You always did, Frodo,” Merry added; too deeply move to avoid speaking out. Pippin said nothing, but nodded in agreement.

“Thank you very much,” Frodo replied, also feeling deeply moved. “But it wasn’t my strength alone. No matter what happened to me at any time in life, I always had people around me. The right people who knew just what I needed.”

“As you will on the quest,” Elrond reminded him emphatically.

“Yes, Frodo, you’re going to have eight people around you to protect and support you in way that you need it,” Aragorn added as the other Hobbits nodded eagerly.

“I’ve always been a private person,” Frodo pointed out. “After a long day, or a particularly stressful event, I need some time alone to get my energy back.”

“We’ll give you privacy at every opportunity, Frodo,” Aragorn told him, “but if you feel overcome by the Ring, or even your own personal feelings, come to us. Don’t cut yourself off.”

“I understand completely,” Frodo said confidently. “I am not going to cut myself off from anyone and I am not going to carry my feelings alone.” And I’m not going to let you frighten me again, he silently told the Ring, giving it a poke.

****************************

Arwen administered Frodo’s medication that evening, as was the routine. This time however, the red pepper had been left out. Frodo no longer needed it, to everyone’s relief. The treatment was no longer painful, in fact Frodo now found it soothing.

“Thank you, my lady,” Frodo said when she was finished. “I really appreciate your helping me and…well...” Arwen put her supplies down and looked at him attentively. “I know it isn’t right,” he continued, “but I wish you were coming with us on the quest. I’m going to miss you when we leave.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Arwen replied, smiling and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to miss all of you, but my people need me here. As you yourself said, we all have our tasks appointed to us.” No one would have guessed from her calm exterior what she was thinking and feeling at that point.

“We understand,” Merry said cheerfully. “We all have to do what we have to.”

“Indeed,” Arwen said rising to her feet, trying not to be unduly quick about it. “Now would you all excuse me? There are a number I have to do.”

“Good night,” the Hobbits called after her, “see you tomorrow!” If they noticed that she had left her supplies on the table and had not washed her hands, they said nothing about it. Outside the room, Arwen took deep breaths and shook her head hard, not caring and barely noticing that it hit the wall when she did so. Arwen Undomiel, she thought frantically, get rid of that idea before something happens! When she finally felt herself becoming calmer, she quickly make her way to the Hall of Fire, needing to occupy her mind with something else.

Frodo found his room unusually dark when he woke up the next morning. The only light was the fire in the corner by his bed. No sunlight filtered through the curtains and the only sound he could hear was the fountain. No birds chirped outside his window and there didn't even seem to be any activity in the hall. Frodo glanced at his clock and quickly discovered why. It was still early; in fact it was an hour before sunrise. He couldn't remember the last time he been awake this early and it gave him an eerie feeling that he couldn't account for.

Will it be anything like this in Mordor? he wondered. No, of course not! Rivendell is a place of beauty and joy and Mordor is anything but a place of beauty and joy. Of course if I fail...

Frodo shuddered when he considered that possibility then began to reflect on what had happened the day before. The Ring had put thoughts into trying to bring him down through fear. Now that Frodo understood what had happened, he recognized the thoughts immediately and his simply ordered them out of his mind. That didn't seem to be happening now, however. The negative thoughts and feelings came from his own mind.

Unable to sleep any more, he got dressed and opened his curtains to look out the stars. As he did, he was reminded of Arwen, the Evenstar of her people. Frodo smiled involuntarily. Arwen had been good to him and he would miss her ministrations on the quest, but as she herself said she was needed there. While Aragorn fought, Arwen gave hope to her people and held on to it herself, even as she faced the prospect of permanent separation from her family and losing her own immortal life. Frodo marveled at this. What courage that must have taken, more courage than actually fighting! He wished with all his heart he could be that strong.

As the sky slowly brightened and the stars began to fade, Frodo turned to make his bed and was startled to hear a knock on his door. He brushed his hair quickly and hurried over to the door, trying not look to look too surprised as he opened it.

"Good morning, Frodo," said a clear, musical voice. "I thought I could hear you walking around in here. Are you all right?"

"Good morning, Lady Arwen," Frodo said with a bow. "Yes, thank you, I'm all right. Please come in, I... I was just thinking about you." He blushed slightly as he said those last words.

"And I was thinking about you," Arwen told him as she entered. "That was an awful experience you had yesterday with the Ring." Frodo thought for a minute, wondering if he should say anything about what he had heard outside the study. No, that wasn't his place, he decided. He wouldn't say anything unless Arwen brought it up first.

"It worked out for the best," Frodo replied. "Now that I know what the Ring was trying to do, and know how to resist Its power, I don't think It will bother me again. Or at least not do anything I can't handle." Although Frodo smiled as he said this, a faint uncertainty still lingering in his mind. "And of course, It tries to, I'll have a lot of support to overcome It."

"Indeed," Arwen replied, "In these difficult times, we need to be able to depend on each other for support." Frodo thought he heard a note of sadness her voice and was about to ask her about that, but it vanished with her next sentence. "How are you feeling over all? Do your eyes still bother you?"

"A little," Frodo admitted. "They feel tired, as if they just had a long day, even if it's still early. But my vision is no longer clouded and the worst of the irritation disappear after my treatment yesterday morning."

"Very good. That soreness should disappear after another treatment or two. Shall I get your medicine now, or would you prefer to wait until your friends are with you?"

"I think it may as well be done now, if you don't mind," Frodo smiled, but the minute he spoke he began to get an uneasy feeling that he couldn't account for. "Of course, it can always wait if this is in anyway inconvenient for you. In fact, I could even do it myself."

"Nonsense, Ring-bearer," Arwen replied blithely, although she was hoping for a different answer. "I consider it an honour to attend to you, as would anyone on Middle Earth. Now make yourself comfortable while I get the supplies."

**********

"My lady, are you all right?" Frodo wanted to know, when Arwen had finished the treatment.

"Yes, Frodo. Why do you ask?" Arwen was smiling at him and seemed happy with the way he was healing, but as he looked at her he was sure he could detect sadness.

"Well, I could be wrong, of course," Frodo began, "but I sense that something is troubling you. The death of my parents heightened my ability to tune into to the feelings of others." He hesitated; knowing what he was about to say could seem out of place. At the same time however, he felt he had to know. "Are you thinking about what happened yesterday in Lord Elrond's study?" Arwen looked startled for a second, then embarrassed. "We didn't hear anything," Frodo assured her quickly. "As soon as we realized you were in there, Sam and Aragorn and I moved back and stayed out of the way until the door opened."

"Aragorn," Arwen sighed sadly. "I love him, Frodo. More than I have ever loved anyone, although my father comes close. When the Ring is destroyed, my father and the other Elves will have to leave Middle Earth. There will be nothing remaining for them here. The power of Vilya, Ring of the Air will fade. The power of Nenya, that my grandmother Galadriel wears will also fade and with it, the Elven paradise she that created. It has long been my father's desire that I go with him to Valinor, but I cannot. My heart belongs to Aragorn. In the Blessed Realm, I would always feel torn in two. My father understands this now."

"And has he fully accepted it?" Frodo went on, surprised to find Arwen confiding in him but more concerned than anything else.

"Yes, Frodo, he has. Yesterday was time of pain for both of us, but also a time of healing. My father made it clear to me then that, as painful the separation is going to be, it would be far more painful for him to see me live forever and be unhappy. And after the pain of separation will come healing and peace."

"He obviously loves you very much," Frodo commented, now feeling sad himself.

"Indeed he does, as I love him. And Frodo," Arwen smiled gently, seeing the expression on his face. "There is no need to be upset. You have a compassionate heart. A gift from Iluvatar no doubt, but really everything is all right now. Did you notice how my father gave you his undivided attention and picked up on your problem immediately?" As Frodo nodded, she continued, "Would that have been possible if he were hurting or troubled himself?"

"I don't think so," Frodo replied, noticing with relief that the sparkle had returned to Arwen's dark grey eyes. What she said made a lot of sense, he realized. It would be awful to live forever feeling torn in two. And he knew from his own experience that pain often activated healing. It was a very strange thing, but it was true.

Arwen, meanwhile, hoped she hadn't burdened Frodo with her problem. That was the last thing she wanted to do as he was facing such a great trial of his own. Even now that his eyes were almost healed, she wanted to continue to give him support and encouragement. That was all she could do. Or was it?

Frodo looked in his mirror after Arwen had left. There was still some redness in his eyes, as he had been told to expect, but most of it had disappeared after his most recent treatment and his eyes no longer bothered him. His shoulder was also improving. The pain was still there, but it wasn't as bad as it had been even the night before and the strength was beginning to return to his arm.

Now that things were gradually returning to normal, Frodo felt he should start learning some basic survival skills and fighting techniques. These things would, of course be essential on the quest and it would be excellent opportunity to get to know the other members of the Fellowship. Frodo's head dropped as considered this. Arwen and Aragorn had assured him repeatedly that no one doubted his courage or his ability any more than they did their own, but he still doubted himself. If a simple thing like conjunctivitis had shaken him so badly, what would happen on the quest when the danger was very real?

The others are no doubt wondering the same thing, Frodo thought, even if they don't want to admit it. Oh well, what must be, shall be.

The Ring had to be destroyed and no mistake. No one else in Rivendell would carry it. Whether they were too afraid or whether their good sense prevented it, Frodo had no idea. Either way, it was up to him. He wished he were strong enough stop being afraid, but of course that was too much to hope for, unless.. No! That idea was absurd, he realized immediately.

What made me think of that? Frodo wondered. Not the Ring, I'm sure. It was probably my own thoughts, temptation to take the easier course of action.

Frodo shook his head hard to dispel the thoughts and bring his mind back into focus, as he considered what he would do for the rest of the day. He had always been good at concealing his negative emotions and acting through them, so he decided that he would make himself appear confident despite whatever he was feeling inside. That would take work and keep his mind occupied until he was out of Rivendell and the temptation had passed. Hopefully too, it would make a good impression on the others and put their minds at ease about him. After all they most certainly had doubts and fears of their own and he didn't want to add to that.

There was a knock on the door as he considered this. Frodo was surprised, not expecting anyone this early in the morning. Arwen had been up earlier, but Frodo guessed that was part of her routine. He couldn't hear anyone else in the hall. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Sam there alone.

"Good morning, Sam." Frodo smiled, glad to see a familiar Hobbit face. "Please, come in." As Sam entered, Frodo noticed he was carrying a small box. "Where are the others?" Frodo asked, expecting his cousins to come soon.

"Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are expecting you in the dining hall," Sam explained nervously. "Strider wants you to eat there from now on inside of here in your room." Frodo was startled when he heard that. He understood that Strider had only his best interests in mind. It was probably true that he had spent too much in his room alone, but even so, this decision was made without consulting him and he wasn't sure he liked it. Of course lot of things had happened that he had no control over so there was no use getting upset, he reasoned.

"Oh well, it won't do to argue with Strider," he commented cheerfully. "He is, after all one of my healers."

"And one of our leaders," Sam added, relieved to see Frodo apparently taking this well. "but still." He smiled mischievously and held up the small box he was holding. "I brought this for you. I wasn't supposed to, but still I couldn't resist."

"Thank you, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, surprised and delighted. "Blackberry tea, my favourite. Let's both have some, then we'll get breakfast together."

***********

"Mr. Frodo, are you all right?" Sam asked, noticing that Frodo seemed distracted and was walking more slowly than usual.

"Hmm? Oh yes, Sam, I'm all right," Frodo quickly assured him. "I was just looking around admiring everything. It's beautiful here isn't it?"

It certainly was. The walls, only slightly taller than the Hobbits and the columns that supported the ornately carved ceiling were completely covered by thick green ivy. Pale gold rays of early morning sunlight streamed through the mist that lingered over the valley. The invigorating scent of pine from the nearby woods drifted through the air, the birds were beginning to chirp again and there was the ever-present sound of rushing water.

Frodo's mind, however, was only partially registering this. He was becoming increasing uncomfortable at the prospect entering the dining area. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have worried much. He had always been good at handling difficult situations, especially when there was food being served. The prospect of a hobbit-sized meal was always reassuring to him. In this case, however, he couldn't help thinking about what had happened the other day. Did anyone else know about it, he wondered. Frodo knew he could trust Sam and his caregivers to be respectful of his privacy, but Pippin and Merry were another story. Of course they would never hurt Frodo deliberately, but they were young and impulsive. Who knew what they had been saying, and to whom? Frodo glanced at Sam and smiled, silently thanking Iluvatar that he didn't have to walk into the room alone.

************

There must have been at least a hundred people in the room, but it was so large that it seemed almost empty. The Elves and Dwarves were sitting at opposite ends of the room and the humans were mingled between both cultures. To Frodo's relief, he spotted Aragorn sitting with Merry and Pippin at a table not far from the entrance.

As Frodo stepped apprehensively stepped inside, he made a show of silently admiring the décor. It was as visually impressive as the library had been, but in a less formal way. The table tops and flower vases set on every table seemed to made of a deep peach coloured marble, unusual but it blended perfectly with the ivory coloured walls and brightly polished brass lamps. The lamps were not all lit at that time, however. The sunlight that streamed through the largely open ceiling was enough to light the most room while not shining directly so as to be uncomfortable for anyone. The bright orange lilies and softer orange roses in the vases filled the room with their delicate scent. And there were, of course, a number of appetizing smells drifting in the kitchen.

"Frodo!" Pippin cried enthusiastically. "Merry, Frodo's here at last!" Frodo was shocked to see everyone's eyes seeming to turn to him, almost before Pippin was finished his sentence. He was even more shocked when at least half of them got up and quickly made their way towards, all asking him questions or offering their praise. He felt so overwhelmed at that moment it was all he could do to keep from screaming and darting away! Indeed, he was sure he would have if the prospect of a meal hadn't been to strong an inticement for him to resist.

"Give him some space," Aragorn intervened. "I know you all want to talk to him, but wait until he finishes eating then let him meet one person at a time." There were a number of embarrassed apologies as everyone returned to their seats. Frodo and Sam both looked up at him gratefully and made their way over to his table with Merry and Pippin.

Frodo seated himself between Sam and Aragorn, the two people he trusted most and was pleasantly surprised to find his plate, and Sam's filled almost he knew what was happening. "What are we doing today, Strider?" he asked as he ate contentedly. He was just starting to realize how hungry he had been.

"We'll teach you to sword fight," Pippin eagerly volunteered. "You have a sword, don't you? I think Bilbo gave you his sword." Frodo looked at Aragorn for approval.

"No serious fighting yet," Aragorn told him. "You need to be careful of your shoulder. But you could watch and learn the techniques, and maybe you could share with us what you learned at the library."

Frodo cringed slightly at mention of the library. He knew, of course the Aragorn was referring to the information he had gathered from studying, but he couldn't help being reminded of what had happened in the garden after that. He found it painful to think about strong the Ring's power over him had been at that point. Those emotions however, came from his own mind not the Ring. He had resisted Its power at that time, and if necessary, he could do it again. He hoped.

******************

"Very good, Pippin, but hold your sword a bit higher," Boromir directed. The Fellowship had gathered in a large courtyard. Boromir was teaching Pippin and Merry some new skills and Aragorn was teaching Sam about wilderness survival. Everyone seemed to be learning fast except Frodo. He just watched, trying not to let it bother him that he wasn't doing anything. It wasn't his fault, he reminded himself. His injury prevented him from doing much at that time. Another thought struck him immediately, however. It was his fault! The injury was a direct result of his giving in to the Ring's power. Had he not put It on at Weathertop, the Nazguls wouldn't have seen him and there would never have been a problem. Of course, it couldn't be helped now and there was no use regretting the past. Frodo told himself stop dwelling on it, but found that was easier said than done.

"Frodo, would you like to try?" Boromir called. Frodo looked at Aragorn who nodded his approval, then apprehensively drew his sword Sting. "Don't worry," Boromir reassured him. "We do everything very slowly when learning a new technique. Are you ready?" Boromir walked Frodo through the basics skills, which Frodo picked up quickly.

"Very good," Boromir told him when they were finished. "Do you think you could do it again, a bit faster this time?"

"I believe I could, if Aragorn has no objections," Frodo replied eagerly.

"All right, Frodo," Aragorn replied, "but you have to stop before you get really tired. Boromir, don't let him overexert himself."

"I promise not too," Boromir replied, and with that he and Frodo started a second round, then a third, each round a bit faster the previous one. Finally, Frodo held up his hand as a sign that he had enough. Feeling tired, but satisfied, Frodo put away his sword and glanced at the others expectantly. The rest of the Fellowship and some other observers were looking at him with amazement.

"Frodo that was wonderful!" Boromir told him at last, "better than I did at my first lesson, even without an injury!"

"Indeed, that most impressive," Legolas commented as the others all nodded in agreement.

"Looks like everyone's real pleased with you, Mr. Frodo," Sam told him proudly.

"I should think so!" Merry exclaimed, "especially after what happened yesterday in the garden!" Frodo cringed at those words and dropped his head miserably. This was too much. First he had been critically injured because he put the Ring on. Then he developed conjunctivitis and let that cut him off from everyone, then the Ring had almost overcome him again. All these things had been slowly chipping away at his self-confidence, and now everyone knew it! This was just too much!

"What happened yesterday in the garden?" Gimli demanded. Everyone's expressions immediately changed from admiration to concern.

Before anyone could say anything else, Merry was happily telling everyone the all details of Frodo's panic attack and what happened after that. Legolas, the one nearest to Frodo, stepped over to console him, but the Hobbit threw down his sword in absolute despair and dashed out of the yard before anyone could stop him. They would have gone after him, but Aragorn stopped them by raising his hand, explaining that Frodo probably needed some time alone. Frodo, however, wasn't planning to be alone. He felt could not longer carry the Ring and his own misery, so he gone off to find the one person he sensed was able and willing to share his burden.

Frodo rushed inside and dashed down the ivy-covered halls. He knew where he was going, even he though he had never been there before. He sensed he was being guided by something. He didn’t know what it was, but he followed blindly. He didn’t know either, that the Ring was taunting him, but if he had, he wouldn’t have cared. He would be soon be free of it, he thought. Frodo’s mind started to feel calmer as he approached the main living area. Still trembling, but without hesitatation, he burst into Arwen’s room and fell at her feet.

“Frodo! Are you hurt?” she exclaimed.

“No…I...mean yes I…I can’t go on any more,” Frodo stammered as he pulled out the Ring. “Please take this from me!”

“Frodo, you are the appointed Ring-bearer and you have the support of the Council and the Fellowship,” Arwen gasped. “You must carry the Ring to Mordor.”

“I can’t do it, my lady!” he cried, breaking the chain from his neck and thrusting the Ring out in his hand. “You take it; you be the Ring-bearer!”

Arwen stared at the Ring on Frodo’s outstretched palm. So, her intuition had been correct. Frodo wanted her to take the Ring. Could she do it? Could she carry the ring to Mordor and bring herself to destroy it?

“Evenstar…” a strange voice hissed. Arwen took a step closer, afraid of the Ring and yet drawn to it at same time. She knew only too well what it had done to Isildur, Aragorn’s ancestor, but perhaps she, one of the First-born could resist its power. The Ring had to be destroyed; there was no question about that. Or did it? The destruction of the Ring would mean the end of her people and, on a personal level something even more painful, permanent separation from her family. She had always understood that and yet….

“Evenstar…” the Ring whispered gently, but persistently, “the time of your people need not end and your family can together forever.”

Arwen thought about this. As long as the Ring remained, the power of the Elves remained with it. Perhaps the Ring had two sides. She thought about Viyla, that her father wore. She thought too, about the Nenya worn by her grandmother Galadriel. If her family could use their powerful rings for good, was the One Ring very much different? Could it not bring peace and healing as well death and destruction?

“I will bring reunion rather than separation to your family, and joy and prosperity to all people,” the Ring continued seductively. A wild look came to Arwen’s eyes, like nothing Frodo had ever seen before. He shrank from her, but did not pull the Ring away.

“Your people will established forever and all of Middle Earth I will give to you and your family,” the Ring hissed to Arwen. She lunged for it greedily and… immediately closed Frodo’s hand over it and pushed it away. Arwen turned deathly pale and fell to the floor. Frodo rushed to her side and gently lifted her head, his heart almost broken. Arwen had healed his eyes, given him comfort and support, and what had he done in return? He had caused her pain and terror and subjected her to an awful temptation no living being should ever have to face.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he cried. “I had no right to bring this on you. This doom belongs to me alone.”

“Say no more, Frodo. It was myself I was afraid of. Not even the thought of mortality invoked so much fear in me. You were not to blame, but you were correct. No one but you can carry out the task. Still, be comforted. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring,

therefore you were meant to carry it. Nothing happens by chance, but rather Divine arrangement.”

“I understand, Lady Arwen,” Frodo said resolutely. “I will find a way to carry out the task and never turn from it again.”

“You can do it, Frodo,” Arwen assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. “You have great strength in you. I know you will succeed.”

For the next few minutes neither of them spoke; they merely sat together on the floor, recovering from the shock of what had occurred. Finally, Arwen stood up and helping Frodo to his feet, they walked over to the balcony together. Frodo gazed in wonder at what he saw. The huge white clouds contrasted as brilliantly against the sky as the gleaming, snow covered mountains did against the emerald valley. A river below sparkled in the sunlight like fine crystal.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Arwen asked. Frodo nodded, he could find no words say. “Is it as beautiful as your home in the Shire?” Arwen continued. Frodo thought about this for a few minutes.

“I can’t compare them, Lady Arwen, because they’re so different,” Frodo said at last. “In the Shire, the hills roll gently and it’s green as far the eye can see.”

“Think of this often,” she told him, “and think often of the Shire. Let inspiration be what motivates you, rather than fear of failure. It will give you the strength to go on until your task is completed.” He nodded silently and continued to take in the sight before him.

The first thing Frodo did after leaving Arwen’s room was find the rest of the Fellowship to let them know he was all right and apologize for alarming them. They were all extremely relieved to see him come back, now seeming to be genuinely at ease. Merry, of course felt terrible for his part in the incident, but Frodo assured him that all was forgiven. He even jokingly added that Pippin was usually the one who blurted things out without thinking so it was Merry’s turn to make that mistake. Frodo spent the rest of that day with friends, taking in the sights of Rivendell from the mountains and the cascading waterfalls to the smallest flowers he saw in the grass, being sure to appreciate every one of them. Feeling the need to rest by late afternoon, he returned to his room, making mental notes for his journal that evening.

*******************

As the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains, the sky darkened to a deep blue and the moon began to rise. Frodo went over to his desk to begin his journal entry when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called. Aragorn and Arwen entered, carrying a small elven light.

“Good evening, Frodo,” said Aragorn, “how are you feeling?”

“Just fine,” Frodo told him. “The pain in shoulder lessens a bit each day, and I’ve been seeing everything in clear focus since…” he thought about this for minute. “Well long enough. So I want to get back to preparing for the quest as soon as possible, tomorrow morning preferably. ”

“Well, you certainly seem ready,” Arwen told him. “Would you mind if we had another look at your eyes to see if their healing is complete?”

“Please do,” Frodo said. So Arwen and Aragorn sat on the bed and had Frodo stand in front of them. Arwen looked at his eyes first, and then handed the light to Aragorn.

“They look fine now,” Aragorn told him, after studying them. “The redness is almost gone and there’s no sign of any complications. And your shoulder is still improving?”

Frodo nodded. “That arm gets stronger too, each time I use it,” he added.

“And how are you emotionally?” Arwen wanted to know. Frodo considered this. He found it hard to explain and he wasn’t sure if they would believe him. Finally, he decided to take the chance.

“Better than I have for a long time. A strange thing I know, but it’s true. The Ring almost brought me down, but I resisted it. Then I was almost crushed by a fear of failure, but I overcame that too, by admitting it and accepting the fear as normal. Once I did that, it no longer seemed so overwhelming to me. In fact, it seems to have renewed my strength. And of course, I have a lot of support.”

“That often happens, Frodo,” Aragorn explained. “When people are pushed to their limits, they often discover an inner strength they never knew they had.”

“Yes, I can see that now,” Frodo replied. “So I imagine that my time here is going to get pretty intense, in preparation for the quest.”

“Of course you need to keep focused on the quest, but continue to find enjoyment here,” Arwen reminded him. “Remember to appreciate the good things that remain in the world. That is what we all fight for.”

Frodo nodded his head in complete agreement. That was part of his preparation too, although he hadn’t realized it before. “Remember too,” Aragorn told him, “that you’re not alone. You have the support of everyone in Rivendell and on the quest, you’ll have the protection of the Fellowship.”

Frodo thought about that too, and felt his spirits rise higher. The Ring would be destroyed, he knew that now. If for any reason he couldn’t do it himself, someone else would. He wouldn’t think about that, however. He would do his part right up to the end, as would all the others. He looked at Arwen and Aragorn and smiled.

“Thank you,” he said with feeling. He could think of nothing else to say at that time, but they knew those two words spoke volumes.

******************** A/N: For those of you who haven’t read the book, Evenstar (short for evening star) is Arwen’s name, not just the pendant she gave to Aragorn. Her Elvish name Undomiel means Evenstar just as Legolas means Greenleaf.