Parts of this chapter are taken directly from ‘Fog on the Barrow-downs’ from The Fellowship of the Ring.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

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SPELLBOUND

Chapter 5 -- Out of Deep Water

There is a seed of courage hidden (often deeply, it is true) in the heart of the fattest and most timid hobbit, waiting for some final and desperate danger to make it grow.  Frodo was neither very fat nor very timid; indeed, though he did not know it, Bilbo (and Gandalf) had thought him the best hobbit in the Shire.  The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘Fog on the Barrow-downs’

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An incantation not its own filled the Barrow, followed by a fierce light.  Ever shrouded in darkness -- of earth or barrow, fog or mist -- the sudden, blazing light of the hated sun was agonizing.

Get out, you old Wight!  Vanish in the sunlight!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains!
Come never here again!  Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,
Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.

The wight screamed as it began to weaken, its very essence being unmade as its hold on consciousness thinned and shredded.  The fell hand twitched convulsively, blinded by light and a force beyond its understanding.  The Barrow itself seemed to groan under the weight of Tom’s simple words, spoken with a power more ancient than ancient.

As part of the Barrow behind Frodo caved in with a crash, Tom stepped into the cold chamber.  The hobbit, blinking in the light from the rising sun that now flooded the Barrow, stood over his enspelled friends -- the hilt of an ancient dagger in his hands.  In an instant, Tom guessed most of what had happened here, and his respect for the Ring-bearer’s strength and courage grew even stronger than it had been before.

Shaking, Frodo let the weapon drop and fell to his knees, throwing the long sword away from his friends’ throats.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Tom, somewhat in shock at what had nearly occurred.  “Will they awaken?”

Tom saw that Frodo needed something to warm his limbs and redirect his thoughts.  “Come, friend Frodo!” he said briskly.  “Let us get out on to clean grass!  You must help me bear them.  I will call them back from sleep, but you must be near them.”

“Merry first,” Frodo insisted.  “He needs to be out of this place.”

Tom nodded, and he stooped to grasp Merry under the shoulders.  Frodo took his cousin’s legs, and together they bore him out of the Barrow and out into the sunlight.  They did the same for Sam, then Pippin.

“Back there,” Frodo said, pointing to the entrance.  “I saw---”

Tom nodded.  He, too, had seen the fell hand, groping blindly forward.  “Stay with them,” he said simply, and disappeared into the Barrow.  Frodo heard a great stomping and stamping, then Tom reappeared, his arms laden with glittering treasure.  Tom climbed to the top of the Great Barrow and spread the gems, weapons, and ornaments upon the grass.  Then he gazed into the quickly-rising sun, the clean wind in his hair.

Frodo touched Merry’s face, relieved to see that his cousin no longer seemed caught in a nightmare; he now lay in the same peaceful sleep as the others.  Why did I wake, Frodo wondered, and what would have happened had I not?  Just then, a clear, commanding voice cut through his thoughts.

Wake now, my merry lads!  Wake and hear my calling!
Warm now be heart and limb!  The cold stone is fallen;
Dark door is standing wide; dead hand is broken.
Night under Night is flown, and the Gate is open!

Pippin yawned and stretched, as did Merry and Sam, and to Frodo’s joy, they opened their eyes.  Almost as one, the three hobbits leaped to their feet, trying to comprehend where they were, and what had happened.

“It’s morning!” Sam gasped in amazement.  He stared at the way Merry and Pippin were dressed, then suddenly realized that he was wearing the same strange, ragged cloth, girdled with golden chains.  To his relief, his master stood before them, no longer lost and apparently unharmed.  “Mr. Frodo, are you all right?  How did you find us?”

Pippin was gazing in astonishment at the opened Barrow, completely confused.  His last memory had been sitting in the grass, looking up at the stars and wondering where Frodo had got to, then feeling drowsy...

“Merry!” Frodo cried, catching his cousin’s arm as Merry suddenly paled, his knees starting to buckle beneath him.

“I remember,” Merry whispered, a cold, dark memory assailing him.  “The men of Carn Dûm came on us at night, and we were worsted.  A spear... in my heart!”  He moaned and clutched at his chest, his breaths coming in harsh gasps.

“Who?” Pippin asked, puzzled.

“Merry, you were dreaming,” Frodo said urgently, wrapping his arms around his shaking cousin.

“Just a dream?” Merry murmured.  “I thought... I thought I was...”  He looked into Frodo’s clear, anxious eyes.  “Where were you, Frodo?  We looked and looked.”

“That’s what I want to know.  And what does ‘worsted’ mean?” Pippin persisted.

“Overcome,” Frodo explained softly, his eyes never leaving Merry’s face.  “Merry, everything’s all right.  Tom found us.  We need to think of what we are to do now.  We need to go on.”

He gives me all credit for their rescue, Tom thought, hearing Frodo’s words.  Humility rules his heart; he speaks not even to his friends of his brave deeds in the dark.  Or of the struggle with the Ring that I sense he fought and won.  He will do well, and find friends and aid, in unexpected paths beneath the sun.

“Dressed up like this, sir?” asked Sam.  “Where are our clothes?”  The three hobbits pulled off the jewels, belts, and ornaments, then looked about them.  Pippin started back inside the Barrow, but Tom’s booming voice stopped him.

“You won’t find your clothes again,” Tom laughed, leaping down from the top of the mound.  He had seen what was left of the hobbits’ garments, scattered about the chamber and shredded almost beyond recognition.  “But what of it?  You’ve found yourselves again, out of the deep water.  Cast off these cold rags, and let the sunlight warm you.  Run naked on the grass, while Tom goes a-hunting!” He sprang away down the hill, whistling and calling.

“Deep water,” Merry murmured to himself, flinging away the circlet on his head.  Yes.  He had heard the mocking laughter of the enemy, felt the spear pierce his breast, his sight fading, the cold, dark waters drowning him...

“Merry,” Frodo said quietly, still holding onto him, “it wasn’t real.”

Merry nodded and, taking a deep breath, forced away the cold, lingering presence of his nightmare.  He turned his back on the Barrow, but saw that Pippin’s attention was still drawn toward the gaping entrance and what lay within the chamber.  Tom is right, he thought.  We need to get away from this loathesome Barrow.

Throwing off the foul cloth covering him, Merry smiled at Pippin and Frodo.  “Race you to the edge of the hill, you lazy Took and Baggins!  You too, Sam Gamgee!”

Instantly diverted, Pippin pulled off his white rags, the gleam of competition in his eyes.

“Well, Sam?” Frodo asked with a grin, “are you going to defend the Gamgee name?”

The bright morning sun had begun to warm Sam’s limbs and heart, and the smell and feel of the foul rags covering him was suddenly almost too much to bear.  He ripped them away in disgust.

“Eldest gets a headstart!” Frodo cried out, and raced off -- his three companions close at his heels.

** TBC **

Andrea:  The wight is pure evil, as I understand evil -- he sees his victims as ‘things’ to be dispatched, and not as ‘people’ to be understood or communicated with.  And whew! I was terrified to try to write Tom Bombadil’s speech.  I’m relieved it sounds plausible.

Anso the Hobbit:  Bilbo is a fascinating character, and truly one of the most amazing hobbits who ever lived.  Frodo’s life was influenced greatly by him.

aprilkat:  I think Bilbo had an enormous influence on Frodo -- possibly the greatest influence of anyone in his life.  It’s fascinating to try to see the threads that weave throughout the entire LOTR tale.

Armariel:  I’m honored that this seems suspenseful, even though I’m following the book!  It’s fascinating to delve more deeply into possible reasons behind these unusual events.

Auntiemeesh:  It took me awhile to come up with a plausible reason for the wight to only manifest one hand; what a relief that it seemed logical.  And thank you so much for highlighting passages you particularly liked.

Azaelia:  Thank you so much.  At last we’re into the lighter, brighter parts of the story, and you can get some sleep!

Breon Briarwood:  Free at last, Breon!

Connie B:  You’re right -- even after the rescue, there are things to be explored and explained.  I hope I do a good job!

cpsings4him:  It was agony writing those dark, despairing chapters before I could get to the more hopeful parts.  Whew!

cuthalion:  It’s such a pleasure to finally get this story back into the sunshine and free of the confining barrow!  But what a fascinating exploration this has been.

Dreamflower:  Good old Bilbo, indeed.  Frodo’s entire life and destiny were shaped by that wonderful old hobbit.

eiluj:  I have the strangest compulsion to find explanations for things... and this book chapter really caught my attention.  I’m so happy you feel that what I’m coming up with is logical.

Elven Kitten:  The chapter of the book was so odd, I felt compelled to investigate it more thoroughly!

Elwen:  I find Goldberry as difficult to know and understand as anyone in the Trilogy.  Maybe someday I’ll do some serious thinking about what part she played in the larger picture...

Gentle Hobbit:  I, too, see Bilbo’s stories as a form of “training” for Frodo, especially since Bilbo trusted Frodo enough to tell him the truth about everything, and keep no secrets.  It’s as if he thought that Frodo would need to know the stories... as much as he would someday need mithril and Sting.

Inkling:  “time and again Tolkien showed this solitary courage “alone in the dark,” even while gripped by cold-blooded fear, as the more difficult and greater form of heroism.”  I love how you say that!  What a perceptive way to look at the courage of our beloved characters, especially Frodo.

Julia:  I never dreamed I’d write anything that gave anyone shivers, but for this particular story, I appreciate the compliment!

Larner:  Many thanks.  I didn’t originally plan to bring The Hobbit into this story, but everything seems to be interwoven when we get to the heart of things.

Lily the Hobbit:  Frodo’s courage is beyond description; he is truly amazing.  What a pity the Shire didn’t see him for what he truly was.

lndahoyland:  Thank you.  This was such a terrifying ordeal for Frodo, which he faced with true spirit and courage.

lovethosehobbits:  I never cared for Tom Bombadil either, and really couldn’t imagine why he was in FOTR at all.  It’s been fascinating trying to weave him into this story and see him in different ways.

my-fool-of-a-took:  Goldberry is such a mysterious character.  I think she and Tom make an interesting couple, with each having ‘magic’ that is very unusual.

Mysterious Jedi:  Prof. Tolkien described the three hobbits as being clad in “thin white rags”, so I went with it!  I suppose that the fabric the wight had to work with would have been quite old.  Interesting to think of possible symbolism, though...

pebbles66:  Thank you, pebbles!

Scifirogue Kane:  And Tom to the rescue!

SlightlyTookish:  I found it fascinating, in FOTR, that Bilbo had told Frodo everything about his adventures, and the Ring, and that there were no secrets between them.  Bless that old hobbit!

smalldiver:  Thank you!  I had to figure out some reason for the green light, and why it went out, and I’m relieved that my explanations seem logical.

smaugs mommy:  I never thought I’d be trying to write Tom Bombadil; he’s as much of a challenge to me as the Barrow-wight!