Gandalf… Gandalf had fallen…

Frodo sighed deeply, thick clouds hanging over his eyes, darkening them. And the burden in his heart got heavier with every single step taken to the fair land of Lothlorien.

We will go through the mines.

And in the mines Frodo had sent Gandalf to his doom. How? How could that happen? How could he decide they should roam those dark channels when could have taken other roads? The Gap of Rohan, perhaps? How could Frodo not see the apparent reluctance in the dear wizard’s eyes when the idea of taking the road through mines of Moria was brought up?

And now Gandalf was gone--slain by the horrible, fiery beast, the Balrog, which he had wanted to avoid in the first place.

Frodo took another deep breath. Gandalf would never know now that the rest of the Fellowship could manage to Lothlorien, where the Lady of the Woods resided, where they could get a piece of solace and harbor their restless and wearied hearts, even if it was just for a while. So perhaps Frodo could also…

“You bring evil to this place. We cannot allow you to enter.” A voice. An elf, with hair so fair and face so handsome. But the border warden had meant him, Frodo, when he spoke, and Frodo did not find it handsome at all. The cold words made the hobbit’s heart to drop. Frodo was flabbergasted, eyebrows almost uniting and the already darkened eyes sinking even deeper in their sockets in misery and regret. It was now about the Thing he carried.

“We cannot let such devilry pass our borders for it will bring despair and ruin to these fair lands,” Haldir continued.

Frodo saw Aragorn snap and pace toward the elf quickly. Anger and disappointment flashed across the ranger’s face. Frodo watched in fear. Aragorn was surely the one everybody – he – could count on. But his action this time might put himself in danger. Frodo had never known these elves and he had no idea what could come upon Aragorn should they be angered.

Muted by the elf’s words, Frodo could only stand in his place, arms hanging limply on his sides, His body weakening as if it were boneless. And what he saw before him left him breathless.

Those gazes! Frodo gasped. The gazes from the other members of the Fellowship, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, even Sam! They were all staring at him, glaring at him with an undeniably accusatory look. Apparently Haldir’s statements toward Frodo had seeped into their hearts, and as exhausted and grieved by the loss of Gandalf as they were, these dear fellows swallowed up whatever their senses received. And now they undoubtedly had the same opinion as Haldir – Frodo was the one who brought them all into misery, who brought Gandalf to death, and now the hobbit would even deny them sanctuary in the place where they could rest their distressed frames and souls.

Frodo understood well what the looks on his friends’ eyes meant and that made him grow even more miserable. He did not want this to happen. Frodo desperately longed for the peaceful life he used to know. Oh, how he missed the Shire, Hobbiton, and Bag End.

Thus, Frodo could only stare back in his wretchedness, uttering nothing out of his lightly quivering lips.

Vaguely, Frodo heard the argument between Aragorn and Haldir, and turned his eyes to the man and the elf.

“If you do not let us come into your place, not only Lothlorien will be destroyed but also all of Middle Earth!” Aragorn gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice down. The elf in front of him managed to keep his face straight but the ranger knew his words had hit their target.

But he was wrong.

“Why so? You may find other shelters,” said Haldir flatly.

Aragorn could not believe his ears.

“There is no other place near here, and the orcs shall have us once we step out of the woods.” Sighing deeply, Aragorn changed his strategy, more supplication this time.

“Please, Haldir, Warden of the March. We are all wearied and it is beyond our strength to fight again. Not with the death of…” Strider’s voice was caught in his throat. Doubts came upon him. Was it necessary to reveal this fact to the headstrong elf?

But Aragorn’s unfinished sentence had caught Haldir’s attention.

“The death of whom?” he sounded more than curious. “One of your companions has been killed?” Haldir turned around and started to pace back and forth, the fingers of his right arm going up to his chin.

“Then I must be right,” the elf said, ponderingly. “Whatever is being carried by that little one will bring nothing but misfortune and tragedy. You are not to enter!”

Aragorn lost his patience.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Strider bellowed, surprising all that were standing around them. “You let a creature so small and helpless carry such a great burden even your own kin dare not! Now what we ask of you is just a little comfort before we continue our journey and all you are thinking is that your land is going to be stained by the evil of this burden! Do you have no pride at all?” Aragorn spat the words out in Haldir’s face, forcing the elf to take one step back.

Sam squinted at Frodo and found that his master’s face had blanched completely. The gardener regretted at once looking at Frodo with such an unfriendly face.

Haldir bowed his head a little.

“I am but to carry out my duty. It is my responsibility to prevent foul things from coming into our realm.” The elf heaved. “But in that case…” He turned to Frodo all of a sudden. “You come with me. But I must have your blindfolded for we cannot let the evil pass its eye through your eyes over Lothlorien. I will release the others from that obligation.”

Sam gasped. “You mean you will blindfold only Mr. Frodo! It can’t be! You must do that to me, too!”

“I will not tolerate any more disobedience,” replied Haldir coldly. “The others will come unhindered or not come at all!”

Aragorn’s warning look shut Sam’s mouth completely.

Three fair-haired elves approached Frodo. One went behind him and swathed a piece of dark cloth over the hobbit’s eyes and fastened it securely behind his head. Frodo held his breath, eyes straining behind the fabric trying to catch the slightest ray of light through it but he could not. Frodo could see nothing but the darkness of the night. He flailed his hands, attempting to grab anything he could lay hold of in his suddenly swaying world. Two pairs of strong hands caught his upper arms, so strong that they made Frodo wince in pain.

A growl was heard somewhere in front of him. Sam.

“You let go of my master! You ‘ave no right to treat him such!”

“Sam…” Two voices came simultaneously. Frodo and Aragorn’s.

Frodo tilted his chin up. “It’s all right, Sam.” He sounded sad and tired. “If it has become the agreement that I am to walk blindly and in the escort of the elves, so be it. I intend no harm to come upon these people. Therefore I must seek to ward off any of the Ring’s attempts to do harm.”

Sam nodded in comprehension but realizing Frodo would not be able to see it, the gardener answered in his choking voice.

“Y… yes, Mr. Frodo. I can see that. But at least, let me be the one who guides you.” Sam averted his eyes to those of the elves, seeing pleadingly. But they kept immobile, eyes looking straight. Wordlessly they made it clear to Sam that they listened to Haldir alone. Sam exhaled. “Please?”

“Sam,” called Frodo. “Let them be.”

“Let us start,” cut Haldir impatiently, and he led the way, followed by his two men taking Frodo with them, practically dangling the hobbit between them. But not for long. Once they got to the many flights of stairs, Frodo was forced to step on his sturdy, hairy feet, and walk on his own, half dragged up by those elves whose strides were so much bigger than his own.

For some time Frodo could still follow the pace set by the elves but then he started to teeter. His breath grew heavier.

“Can we stop… for a moment, please?” Frodo asked in between his panting breaths.

The elves – and the hobbit – kept on moving for several moments until Frodo was sure that nobody heard his plea. Frodo felt his lungs were ready to burst. His blindfolded eyes made him even harder to breathe.

“Please…?” And the elves stopped abruptly, jerking Frodo forward and making him land hard on his knees. Frodo took a deep breath in relief despite the soreness in his knees.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Yes. I think the others need rest, too.” It was Haldir. Everything had to come from him, Frodo remembered again.

The hobbit started to wonder for how long he would have to endure the blindfold. Would he just have to endure it on the way to see of the Lady of Lothlorien, or – Frodo shuddered-- during their entire stay there? Frodo shuddered to think of the second possibility that was more likely to happen. If these elves seriously thought the Ring could perform its evil work by way of Frodo’s sight, Frodo would probably be denied of that as long as he was in Lothlorien.

* * *

Sounds of bare feet crushing onto dried leaves brought Frodo to wakefulness. He was stunned a moment as he still met darkness in spite of his fully opened eyes. Then he realized that dark cloth still covered them. Without realizing it, he had been asleep, unheedful of the blindfold as weariness got the better of him.

But now, awake and fully aware of his surroundings, Frodo could care less if the elves would treat him badly should he decide to open the cover. Without thinking more about it, Frodo reached up and snatched the cloth away from his head.

Frodo blinked several times to soften the sudden brightness attacking his aching eyes. He looked around, once he could see normally, and found that no elves were on guard. Instead, he saw his fellow hobbits, Sam, Merry, and Pippin, all sound asleep.

Carefully Frodo got up and followed the sounds that had awakened him. Down in a clearing, he spotted a figure tracing down the steps gracefully, as if it were floating.

“… if you ask it of me, I will give it to you.”

Thus, whatever Haldir had been afraid of, it was happening now. Through Frodo’s small and tremulous voice, an evil rose up, set loose by the simple act of loosening his blindfold. If only Frodo had listened. If only Frodo had obeyed. Too late. It was now too late…

The End