A huge "Thank you" to my awesome Beta, Dreamflower. She has helped me in more ways than I can ever repay her for, and I can always rely on her to know how to resolve any rough spots in a story. She is a fountain of wealth in her endless ideas and enthusiasm for LOTR Fanfic!  And a very special "thanks" to Pearl Took for her input and ever-present help with crucial plot twists and tireless re-reading!!

This story is dedicated to Lily Baggins with much love and many hugs for her continued support! She's been there since the very beginning of my fanfic journey.

Story Summary:

The Fellowship has not travelled together for long but already it is apparent that the One Ring’s influence on Frodo Baggins is growing. As he struggles to keep his increasingly dark thoughts at bay, his companions are finding they also are subject to a subtle increase in moodiness. Frodo has taken to sleepwalking, Pippin, to night wandering and secrecy. Although Legolas has discovered part of Pippin’s secret, he allows himself to believe Pippin’s reassurances, and agrees to keep what he knows to himself for the time being.

Before long, a blizzard traps the Fellowship in a cave where their problems escalate, and suspicions grow difficult to ignore. . . 

“Quest”

Chapter one

“Shades of Grey”

The Shadow pursued him, a grey beast howling at his back, reaching for him with its icy claws. He ran, knowing that fleeing was useless. The Ring’s razor sharp edge sliced across his fingertips and liquid warmth trickled. He stared at his fingers as a waterfall of crimson flowed from his hand only to rise like a great wave, engulfing him, embracing him, and then, like some monster born of his most terrible nightmare, plummeting him into the void.

He struggled, grasping at the jagged rocks with his one good hand, aware that a part of him wanted to let go. He sensed the ground rising to meet him; flames licked up the mountainside like a pack of starved wolves no longer deprived of their kill. Beaten, he opened his arms wide to embrace the inevitable. . .

“Ahh!” Frodo fell, rolling down the grassy slope and bouncing dangerously off the edge of an overhanging rock before thudding to a stop at last. He lay on his back gasping for breath, staring wide-eyed at the clear night sky. He heard his fellow travellers in the distance, their shouts of confusion growing louder as they neared him. Raising his head, he could see he was far from the shelter of the trees where they’d made camp for the night. 

Sitting up, he touched the lump that was sprouting on his temple.  Dazed, Frodo watched Aragorn making his way up the slope to kneel beside him. The man immediately began to inspect him for injuries.

“I’m all right,” Frodo mumbled, feeling foolish not for the first time this week.

“Please allow me to be the judge of that.” Aragorn continued his examination and then sat back on his heels at last, satisfied that Frodo was not seriously injured. He turned to the elf who had appeared at his side, while behind him traipsed the remainder of their company.  Legolas regarded Frodo with a keen eye, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

“He is unharmed,” added Aragorn, “Or, at least, mostly unharmed.” He turned back to speak directly to Frodo. “You have a few scrapes and cuts, but nothing serious. However, this goose egg,” he gently touched the side of Frodo’s head causing the hobbit to flinch, “is swelling as we speak.”

“Aragorn, please.”  Frodo batted the ranger’s hand away, irritated.

Aragorn ignored the cross protest and hoisted Frodo into his arms.

“Really sir, this is not necessary. I am perfectly capable of walking.”

“Hush now.” Aragorn eased down the slope. When they were once more on flat ground they were greeted by the worried expressions of the other hobbits. The wizard looked them over with a critical eye, and Aragorn inclined his head in acknowledgement that all was well. When they reached the campfire, he lowered his still-protesting burden gently to the ground, and Frodo found himself surrounded by his kin, who rushed to see for them selves that he was indeed all right. 

Sam covered him with a blanket and leaned back to inspect the damage.  “Mr Frodo, you must stop this night-wandering habit of yours!”  His attempt to lighten the mood appeared to be as much for his own benefit as for the others. In truth, his heart had been pounding ever since he’d heard the distant scream and realised Frodo had crept from beneath his blankets and stolen away into the night. This had been the third time and Sam was growing more anxious each time. Fortunately, Frodo had avoided being injured until now.

Frodo rubbed gingerly at the emerging bruise, wincing.  “I’m fine, Sam.”

“Aye.” Sam bobbed his head. “And may I say, I’ve never seen you looking any finer.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic,” Frodo said, continuing to knead the side of his head.

Pippin pushed his way between them, eager to have a closer look at his cousin. “You frightened us! Are you certain you’re all right?”   

“Yes, I really am.”  Frodo murmured reassuringly. “Now stop fussing over me.” 

Merry said nothing, but the disquiet was apparent in his eyes.

“That was the third time this week,” Aragorn said. “We need to do something to prevent your sleepwalking. It is becoming much too perilous.”

Frodo started to object again, but Aragorn held up a hand to stop him.  “It is not only dangerous for you, but for us all. Now, since one of us must keep watch on the outskirts of our camp, either someone else will have to remain awake or--”

“I’ll not have anyone losing sleep because of me. Really, you are all making too much of this.”

Ignoring the outburst, Aragorn continued, “Or, we must come up with some other solution.”

“Strider?” Sam tugged on the ranger’s sleeve.  “Why not lash our feet together?”

Frodo’s protest was immediate. “No. This is absurd.”

“Just lightly you know, Mr Frodo, so I’ll rouse up if you try to wander again.”

“Oh, that’s plainly a brilliant idea Sam! And suppose one of us needs to, well, answer the call of nature, perhaps? Do you want me dragging you along into the bushes?”

A snigger came from Pippin’s direction.

Sam frowned at them both. “All you’d need to do is wake me. I’d feel you trying to get up anyway.”

“It’s much more likely I’d forget you were there and likely injure us both when I fell on you.”

“I think that is an excellent idea.” The wizard’s voice rose above the conversation. He retrieved a strip of leather from his pack and tossed it to Sam.

“Do I have no say in this?” Frodo glared at Gandalf.

“No. You do not.” Gandalf eyed him sternly. “Please carry on, Samwise.”

“Go ahead and lay down, Mr Frodo.” Sam gave him a gentle push. “I’ll keep far enough over so as to give you plenty of room and not bother you overmuch.”

“Oh, good heavens! A fine sight that will make!” Frodo fell back on the blankets without further dissent and crossed his arms, fuming.  

After Sam had secured his leg to Frodo’s, allowing plenty of slack for movement, he grinned down at him.  “There, that’s as good an alarm as we could hope for. Now if you need to get up just wake me.” Sam settled down near his friend, and the others followed his lead. The night grew quiet once again and Aragorn returned to stand watch.

After several minutes had passed, a petulant voice spoke into the darkness.  “I believe you’re enjoying this a bit too much, Sam.”

“Go back to sleep, Mr Frodo.”

***

A morning sky yawned gray and dismal, bringing with it the threat of snow as they broke camp to begin another day’s trudging. Frodo stretched tired muscles with a groan, thinking how well the gloom matched his mood. He reached for his pack and bumped it instead, spilling its contents on the ground. Mumbling beneath his breath, he stooped to retrieve his belongings. Sam was already at his side helping.

“You really don’t have to do that Sam. I’m perfectly capable of picking up after myself—Oww!” Frodo jerked his hand back and stuck his finger in his mouth.

“Here now, what happened?” Sam’s voice was full of concern.

Frodo studied the wound, a cross expression wrinkling his brow. “I brushed my sore finger across a sharp stone, that’s all.” Frodo resumed his task, stuffing items into his pack with more force than was necessary. He lifted it and staggered backward as Sam attempted to aid him by arranging the burden on his shoulder. Frodo sighed deeply in frustration. Sam meant well but he wearied of being fussed over. Lack of restful sleep had made him irritable.

“Sam! Enough!” He jerked away.  “I told you I could do it myself.” Turning away he felt the tug of his conscience at the look of hurt on his friend’s face. Frodo stopped and took a deep breath. Head bowed and eyes closed he exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry Sam,” he said, without turning. “I. . .I’m just tired.”

“Aye, Mr Frodo. I understand.” Sam flushed and he turned back to packing his own things. He knelt and fussed over his pack.

Aragorn walked over to them, having caught the end of the conversation. He cast a thoughtful look at Sam before turning to Frodo. “How are you feeling this morning? You appeared to get more rest following your late night excursion.”

“It was difficult not to, considering I was bound to my bed,” Frodo snapped.  He was annoyed with all of them, but even more with himself.

“I would prefer you try to understand, Frodo. Surely you must realise the gravity of the situation. Were we to allow you to continue along the same path it would not be long before you found yourself falling off a much higher rock, or even a cliff.”

Frodo’s expression softened.  “I know. I realise you only have my best interests at heart.” He glanced over at Sam who was now taking charge of helping Pippin finish packing up. 

“Sam does also. But I find it difficult to be fretted over constantly. I even understand the leg binding. I just don’t like it.” He contemplated the mountains in the distance for a moment and shivered. “I don’t like a great many things at the moment.”

“You most certainly are not alone in those feelings. Come, Frodo,” Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let us finish preparing for the day’s journey, shall we?”

The day stretched out before them and a dreary curtain of rain chilled them with a light, yet steady drizzle for the next two hours. Finally, as the morning wore on the sun began to peel the curtain back, gradually stripping the dull sky of clouds, and lifting their mood.

Gandalf studied the horizon, eyes squinted upward, hand shading at the brim of his hat.

“Hmm. Perhaps the snow will not fall today after all. Or, at least not for a few more hours.” He nodded to his companions.  “We may yet embrace another day of sunshine rather than foul weather. Let us take full advantage and make as much progress as possible.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Aragorn said. He nodded to the wizard and moved to the front of the line to start a quiet conversation with Legolas. Gimli had taken up a position in the middle of the group and was closely followed by Sam, who led their pony. Sam reached up on occasion to pat his mane and speak to him. The pony was doing so much better since being freed from Bill Ferny, and the knowledge that the animal now seemed content pleased him a great deal. Sam kept his eyes focused on the ground for the most part. Frodo followed a few steps behind, studying Sam’s back while berating himself for his earlier thoughtless remarks. 

The two younger hobbits trailed behind their cousin. Pippin nudged Merry and nodded at Sam, amused by the prattle. Grinning, he piped up, “Is Bill minding everything you’re saying Sam? Or is he just better company than the rest of us?”

Sam turned halfway around and regarded Pippin with a look of exasperation, but said nothing.

“I think he wants to be left alone,” Merry admonished.

Pippin rolled his eyes and looked around for something else to amuse him. Seeing nothing of interest he shoved his hands into his pockets and brightened at the touch of the small stone he’d found in the stream near their campsite yesterday. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface, marvelling at its warmth.

Merry glanced over at him, his curiosity raised by the serene expression. “What are you so happy about all of a sudden?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing in particular.”

“I always feel a little apprehensive when you give me that answer while wearing that expression.”

“What? Just what expression are you referring to?”

Merry snorted. “The one that makes me feel like you know something I don’t.”

“I know a good many things that you do not, Meriadoc,” Pippin chuckled.

“I tend to agree with your cousin,” Boromir said from directly behind them.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were there.” Pippin jumped in surprise. He twirled around to walk backwards, looking up at the man. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“And what if I were?” Boromir challenged with a laugh.

“Well, I’d say no need. Come, join us Boromir! Do you have any stories for us today? I’m quite bored with this march and I wish to be amused.” 

“Yes well, after the mischief you got yourself into last week I’ve decided you bear closer watching, little one, lest you decide to bite someone again.”

“Now that was simply an accident and you needn’t keep reminding me of it.”

Boromir raised an eyebrow. “How exactly does one bite another person accidentally? I think perhaps you were perturbed with him and found the perfect opportunity for revenge.”

“What! It was Sam’s own idea to offer me a bite of his apple! He felt sorry for me after I dropped mine and it rolled down the hill.”

Boromir leaned over and spoke into Pippin’s ear. “Yes, that’s true, but I don’t recall him offering you a finger to go along with it.”

“He wouldn’t let me hold the apple myself!”

“Because he knows you all too well,” Boromir said with a straight face. “You would have taken it and ran. Instead, you took the biggest bite your mouth could manage, and part of Sam’s finger with it.”

“I did not! Really, Boromir, you are embroidering the tale.”

“And Sam was probably afraid you’d go sliding down the hill to retrieve your apple, and that Frodo would be right behind you to haul you back,” Merry added, joining in on the teasing.

Boromir nodded. “And then the entire Fellowship would have ended up at the bottom of that hill, costing us a dear amount of time whilst we rescued you and your cousin from the water. All that confusion the result of a piece of fruit and a greedy little hobbit.”

“Boromir has a point, Pip.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I think it is,” Merry laughed.

“Well, fine then. I believe I’ll go walk with Frodo.” Pippin hurried ahead, huffing as he went, leaving the two of them chuckling at his back.

Frodo looked up as Pippin joined him. “Is anything wrong Pip?”

“Of course not. I just thought you might enjoy some company, that’s all.”

Frodo glanced back over his shoulder questioningly. Merry raised his shoulders in a shrug. Frodo placed an arm around Pippin’s shoulders and they continued in companionable silence.

***

“Aragorn?” Gandalf eyed the weary group. “I believe it is time we make camp. I do not think the hobbits can go any further tonight.”

Aragorn glanced at his fellow travellers and nodded. “I think that is an excellent idea. I sent Legolas to seek an appropriate campsite a short time ago.” Aragorn nodded towards the rocky land ahead just as the elf appeared on the ridge above them making his way back to the group.

“The area ahead is ideal and easily defensible,” Legolas said as he closed the distance between them. “There is a shallow cave and some outcroppings of rock for additional shelter, and there is water nearby.”

“Splendid! My friend, you are a champion scout when it comes to locating a place of respite,” Aragorn said, and the wizard nodded his agreement.

“What do you think about the possibility of a fire tonight, Gandalf?” Aragorn asked in a low voice as the party started forward again. “Just a small one. The air is extremely chill and with the cover of a cave we may keep it from being easily noticeable.”

The wizard glanced about, considering the question. At last he blew out a breath and nodded. “But let us keep it low indeed. Just because we have not detected any prying eyes today does not mean there are none about.”

“Agreed.” Aragorn turned to the hobbits. “Why don’t you locate some dry wood for a fire?”

Not needing to be told twice, Merry and Pippin scurried for firewood as Sam lowered his cooking wares onto the nearest rock.

“Do not go far,” Aragorn called after them. Behind him, packs and weapons were being gratefully lowered and backs were stretched. It wasn’t long before an inviting fire was the centre of their attention as they all gratefully warmed themselves.

“I fear there are many nights ahead when we will not be able to afford the luxury of a fire,” Aragorn spoke softly to Legolas as he held his hands out to warm them.

“Yes, the journey will soon become much more perilous. The mountains are not far ahead now. The snow will be deep and the wind much colder.” Legolas glanced about, making sure he was not overheard.  “I believe we must be especially mindful of the needs of the little ones. They will find climbing the mountain path particularly demanding.”

“We must keep a cautious eye on Frodo, as well. He cannot be allowed to wander.”

“Sam will keep him safe. Lashing their legs together was a good idea.”

“Frodo remains rather upset with the idea, although he says he understands the need for our vigilance.” Aragorn glanced over to where the hobbits were busy selecting an area to spread their blankets, noting the grimace on Frodo’s face. “He bears close watching. The Ring is treacherous and we must not underestimate its influence.”

“I agree.”

“However, despite Frodo’s initial resistance it does seem to be working out well. For the moment.”

They were drawn from their private conversation when Sam called them together for the evening meal. It was a time of relative comfort and release from their cares as they smoked pipes and told stories of family back home. Occasionally, Pippin favoured them with a song or two. As the evening’s camaraderie drew to a close Sam made a request.

“Strider, do you think we might take the time to do some wash on the morrow? I’d hate to start up there without being prepared.”

Aragorn regarded him with a grin of amusement. “Sam, as usual you demonstrate a keen sense of foresight. Far be it for me to start us on a trek up a mountain without clean drawers!”

Laughter rose amongst the group, and the merriment increased when Pippin looked around in confusion and asked, “What are ‘drawers’?” He looked at Merry for an answer. His cousin shrugged.

“Well? What’s so funny about them?” Pippin quirked an eyebrow and waited for someone to answer his question.

Aragorn chuckled. “Men wear them under their clothing, Pippin.”

“Smallclothes, you twit.” Merry jabbed him playfully with his elbow.

“Ah! Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

Still appreciating the lighthearted mood, Aragorn nodded at Sam. “I believe that would be practical. Good idea, Sam.” 

The gardener blushed. “Well, someone has to think of these things,” he mumbled.

“Sam is quite right.” Boromir nodded in agreement. “Besides, this is indeed the best shelter we have come upon in some time. We may as well take full advantage of it. While the wash is drying we can gather more food for the journey. Once we reach the mountain the snow will deepen and food will be difficult if not impossible to find.” Boromir laid a hand on Pippin’s shoulder.  “And the little ones may gather additional wood for us to take along.”

“Are you trying to tell me something Boromir?”

“Pippin my lad, I’m actually putting you in charge of the wood gathering expedition!  See that it’s done right.”

Frodo beckoned Sam away when his friend withdrew the leather string from his pack. Sam followed him to a more private place.

“What is it, Mr Frodo?”

“I wanted to say that I’m very sorry for being so irritable this morning.” Frodo’s eyes were moist with unshed tears. “I would not have your feelings hurt for anything. Please forgive me Sam.” 

“There’s nothing for you to apologise for. It’s naught but that dreadful Ring talking. I don’t take it hard when I know it’s not like you to say such things, Mr Frodo.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Frodo headed to the bed of blankets inside the little shelter of rocks where his kinfolk huddled together for warmth, and willingly settled in. He reached for the string and dutifully wrapped it around his ankle. Sam was unable to hide his grin as he took the other end and fastened it securely to his own leg.

The night passed uneventfully. The Ringbearer, while restless, did not thrash about in his sleep; the gentle snores and stirring of the slumbering blended with the sounds of nature and all that reached their ears was the sound of wind rustling through the remaining leaves in the trees, and the quiet shuffle of feet during the changing of the watch.