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BY CHANCE OR PURPOSE

Chapter 14 --- Facing Reality

October 17/18

Frodo opened his eyes, a bit disoriented.  The difference between dark dreams and dim awakening was beginning to blur a bit, as they both seemed real, now -- and equally unreal.  Pippin lay beside him, still apparently sound asleep, and Merry and Sam were talking quietly at the edge of the stony shelf.  Aragorn was nowhere to be seen.

Frodo sighed, trying to dispel the frightening images that now haunted his dreams.  Cold, smothering darkness… to Mordor we will take you… just rest, little one… stop fighting… to Mordor we will take you…

“No,” he whispered, “never.”  He looked around.  “Sam?”

“Right here, Mr. Frodo.”  Sam came to Frodo’s side and helped him sit up.

“Why are we still here?” Frodo asked, puzzled.  “It’s full morning.  Where’s Estel?”

“He’s gone off to scout around and find a way over these hills,” Merry replied, coming to join them.  “We figured you might as well sleep a bit longer.”  He looked at Pippin and smiled.  “Pip needed a bit more sleep as well.”

“Dear Pip,” Frodo said fondly, gazing down at his young cousin’s dirty face and rumpled curls.  “This scamp’s going to need such a bath when we get to Rivendell.”

“We all will,” Sam sighed.

“A hot bath, hot meals, and a soft bed,” agreed Merry.  “What more does a hobbit need?”

“Good friends,” Frodo said softly, his eyes still on Pippin’s face, “and a bit of a song now and then.”

“I’ll bring you something to eat, sir,” Sam said.  “You just rest until Strider gets back.”

“I’m not a complete invalid, Samwise,” Frodo said, struggling to his feet with Merry’s help.  “At least, not yet.”

“Mer?”

“Right here, Pip.”  Merry grinned down at Pippin, who lay blinking in the bright sunshine.  “Get enough sleep, lazy?”

”There’s no such thing as ‘enough’ sleep,” Pippin yawned.  “Unlike you, I’m a growing tween who needs his rest.”  He looked around.  “Where’s Strider?”

“He’ll be back soon,” Sam assured him, then returned his attention to Frodo.  “You all right there, sir?”

“Fine, Sam,” Frodo said with a wan smile.  “You said something about food?”

As the four hobbits ate their sparse breakfast, Frodo fell silent.

“What’re you thinkin’ about so hard, Mr. Frodo?”

“I keep thinking,” Frodo said slowly, “about what the wraith king said to me.”

“You mean when he said ‘little one’?” Merry asked.  “Why dwell on that?”

“Not that,” Frodo replied.  “He said, ‘to Mordor we will take you.’  Why did he say that?  Why didn’t he demand the Ring?  As a matter of fact,” he mused, frowning, “why didn’t he take it?  It was right there on my finger, and he had me by the throat, and he could have just…”

“Frodo, stop!” Pippin cried, alarmed that Frodo had turned even paler, and seemed to be looking at something far away, and terrible.

“I’m all right, Pip,” Frodo said softly.  “It’s just odd, that’s all.  He could have killed me, but he didn’t.  He could have just taken the Ring, or…” He looked around uneasily.  “…come back for it by now.”

Merry didn’t like where Frodo’s thoughts were taking him.  “Frodo,” he said hastily, “he didn’t kill you, and you still have the Ring, and that’s all that matters.  Soon we’ll get to Rivendell, and this Elrond that Strider keeps talking about will help you get better, and…”  He grinned.  “We can all take turns dunking Peregrin in a bathtub until he cries for mercy.”

“It would be more fun to dunk you, Meriadoc,” Pippin retorted.  “You’re definitely dirtier than I am.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Pippin,” Sam said seriously.

“Have you seen yourself lately, Sam?” Frodo asked.

As Aragorn arrived back at the cave, he heard the last thing he would ever have expected -- peals of laughter.  He marveled anew at what hidden reserves of strength and resilience lay within these hobbits.

“I hate to break up the party,” he said as he approached, “but we need to get going.”

“We need to dunk Strider, too,” Pippin giggled, which set the rest off again.

“I don’t want to know,” Aragorn sighed.  “Do I?”

Merry was silent as they packed up and prepared to leave.  He had been able to distract Frodo from thinking about the unthinkable -- this time.  To Mordor we will take you… He tightened his pack and took a deep breath.  Never.

*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn led the way over the rocky ground to a passage between the hills, but after traversing a southward-leading valley all afternoon, they found that yet another set of hills hemmed them in once again.  There appeared to be no better way out of the valley than to climb up, and out.

“This is the easiest slope,” Aragorn addressed the weary group.  “It’s still a steep climb, however, and I think I’d better lead Bill up myself.  I’m sorry, Frodo,” he continued, “but you’re going to have to try to make it on foot -- at least, as far as you can.  If you can’t manage it, just stop, and I’ll return for you.”

“I’ll make it,” Frodo insisted as Aragorn lifted him off Bill.

“He’ll make it, Strider,” Merry echoed.  He and Sam, in an unspoken agreement, positioned themselves behind Frodo.  “We’ll push him up, if we have to.”

“What about me?” Pippin asked.

“We’re not pushing both of you,” Merry teased him.  He waited until Aragorn had started up the steep hill, half guiding and half pulling Bill behind him.  “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t a difficult climb -- or it wouldn’t have been, if Frodo had two good arms to scramble with, or if he hadn’t been so tired and dizzy.  As the sun began to set, he could no longer distinguish true shadows from those that seemed to mist before his vision more and more frequently.  More than once he faltered, and had to stop until he found the strength to continue.

“Frodo, that’s enough,” Merry said urgently.  “We’re nearly to the top; we’ll wait here with you until Strider comes back.”

“No.”  Frodo took a few more painful steps.  “I think,” he gasped, “that if this silly Took would just admit that… he’s exhausted… we could all have a rest.  Merry, can’t you push him over, or… trip him, or something?”

“Not a chance,” Pippin huffed.  “Never let it be said that a Took collapsed before a Baggins did.”

“I refuse to collapse,” Frodo said fiercely.

“So do I,” Pippin murmured.

“Apparently it doesn’t matter if we’re tired, Sam,” Merry sighed.

“Apparently not, Mr. Merry.”

At the top of the hill, the wind was blowing forcefully.  After some searching, Aragorn finally located a shallow pit under the gnarled roots of a pine tree where they could spend the night in a cramped, but relatively sheltered, spot.  He tethered Bill to the tree and hurried back along the ridge, reaching the hobbits just as they crested the top.  As the cold wind hit him, Frodo gasped as sharp, icy claws seemed to suddenly be tearing through him.  Everything began to spin, and before anyone could react, he fell to the ground, shivering and clutching at his left arm.  He barely felt himself being lifted and carried, and only when the warmth of a small fire began to ease the deadly chill did he fully regain his awareness of where he was.

The group spent the night huddled together, protecting Frodo from the cold as best they could.  It was a long time before Frodo dared to close his eyes -- he kept imagining dark, winged creatures flapping in the unrelenting wind, looking for him… waiting…  Out of sheer exhaustion, he finally fell asleep, nestled securely between Sam and Pippin. 

Merry turned to Aragorn.  “Strider,” he whispered, “how far is there still to go?”

“We start back down toward the River tomorrow,” Aragorn replied.  “It will take several days yet to reach the Ford, and to get there, we must return to the Road.”

“Those Black Riders might be waiting at the Road,” Merry said, “or the River.”

“They might,” Aragorn said grimly, “but we’ve run out of options, Merry.  The Ford is the only way across the River, and the Road is the only way to the Ford.”

“I don’t like rivers,” Sam mumbled sleepily.  “There’s just that one we have to cross?”

“Yes, Sam,” Aragorn said quietly.  “Just that one.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Oh, Estel,” Frodo gasped, “whatever did you think of me, when we met, when I would joke about trolls all the time?”  He gazed upwards at the stony shapes in disbelief.  “I never dreamed they were so… so…”

“They really are enormous, aren’t they?” agreed Aragorn.  He turned to Frodo with a smile.  “Frodo, I enjoyed every moment of the teasing in which you and Bilbo took such delight.  I have rarely seen two people so happy together, or so obviously meant to have found each other.”

The morning had dawned still cold, but clear, and Frodo awoke feeling much better.  As the sun rose and warmed them, they slowly descended the ridge.  Soon the trail was level enough to allow Frodo to ride once again.  At last leaving the line of steep hills behind, they struck an ancient, hewn path -- sometimes narrow, sometimes broad -- that eventually led, by mid-afternoon, down into a thickly wooded area north of the Road.  The discovery of an abandoned troll-hole, and finally, the three trolls, had made for an unexpected diversion.

If Frodo was amazed by the sheer size of the trolls, and a bit embarrassed, Pippin was thunderstruck.  It was one thing to have grown up hearing exciting stories and tales, but now, actually seeing evidence of cousin Bilbo’s legendary adventure…

“Are you all right, Mr. Pippin?” Sam asked anxiously.

“What?” Pippin tore his eyes away from the troll he decided had been William.  “What’s that, Sam?”

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Pip,” Merry said.

“No,” Pippin murmured, “I’m all right.”  He approached one of the stone trolls and hesitantly touched it with one finger.  It was real.  It had all happened.  There was the Ring, of course, but the rest of Bilbo’s tale… trolls and talking spiders and Dwarves in barrels, and eagles as big as whole towns… Pippin closed his eyes.  Wargs.  Dragons and goblins… it had all really happened.

They took their meal at the trolls’ very feet, with everyone temporarily cheered by a song that Sam seemed to spin out of nowhere.

“You’ll feel right at home in Rivendell, Sam,” Aragorn said with a smile.  “The Elves appreciate fine poetry such as that.”

“Me, sing such nonsense in front of Elves?”  Sam was aghast.

“Come,” Aragorn said, “we need to move on.”  He led Frodo back to where Bill was patiently waiting, and helped him to mount.

Merry came to Pippin’s side.  “Pip, what’s wrong?”

“It’s real, isn’t it?” Pippin whispered.  “All of it.  Trolls and… all of it?”

“Yes, it’s real,” Merry said softly.  “I wish it wasn’t, but it is.”  He helped his cousin on with his pack.  “Don’t think about them anymore, Pip; I’m sure you’ll never see another troll.”

As they left the glade, Pippin cast one last backward glance at the massive, once-living creatures, forever frozen in stone. 

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*

Aemilia Rose:  The tension is indeed building -- events will really be accelerating over the next few chapters.

Aiko-chan:  However did we all fall so much in love with hobbits?  I’m so happy we all have each other!

Ailsa Joy and alysha-sedai and aprilkat and Elwen and Miriel:  This truly is my ‘idealized’ Aragorn, based on the person we met in “Quarantined”.  I’m so happy that other folks like him, too.

Aratlithiel1:  It took awhile, but this is now a tightly bonded group.

Ariel3:  It’s wonderful to keep ‘canon’ as the background of this tapestry I’m weaving.

Arwen Baggins:  It’s frightening, but I understood every word of your review.  (And I’m honored that you’re counting the days between updates!)

Belothien:  Of course I meant October 18 in story-time!  I suspect you’re going to enjoy Chapter 15 a lot.  A whole lot.  (And yes, flashbacks to “Quarantined” -- there’s another, in this chapter, and it won’t be the last.)

Bookworm2000 and MaverickGirl and Mish:  I imagine Pippin as young and eager, with his emotions very close to the surface.

Budgielover:  Thank you, Budgie!  I’m always afraid that “actionless” chapters will slow down the story, but I loved Chapter 13 as well.  And trust me, the hurt/comfort won’t be ending anytime soon -- I can’t get enough, either!

crazytook:  It’s great to hear from you, and I’m so glad that you’re enjoying this sequel to “Quarantined”.

Elbereth and pebbles and Strider’s Girl:  So many of us have ‘imagined’ the hobbits just this way -- I’m glad you’re enjoying them!

ElveNDestiNy:  Thank you so much for your kind words!

Finsarnien:  Yes, the ‘author alerts’ are rather unreliable, but I’m glad you finally found (and enjoyed) Chapters 12 and 13!

Frodomeg:  You don’t have to worry about that -- I plan to write more… and more and more.

Gayalondiel:  I can’t bear to write (or read) angst without lighter moments, and despair without hope (as you can probably tell!).

GirlsDontCri:  Samwise the Brave!  He’s such a pillar of strength!

Grand Theft Author Otaku:  (I should have asked this ages ago, but what does ‘otaku’ mean?)  Yes, we’re truly able to see what Pippin is made of -- all the qualities that may never have bloomed or been recognized if he hadn’t gone with Frodo.

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  The story won’t end when the group reaches Rivendell, although it will probably end in Rivendell somewhere.  They’re going through too much, in getting Frodo to Rivendell, for me to end their story right when they get there (and I have a lot to say about what happens when they do get there!).

Idril Telrunya:  Your review was prophetic!  Pippin has a “reality check”, of sorts, in this chapter.

Iris Sandydowns:  I picture Merry’s nature as always thinking, and planning, and calculating things.

Kit5 and SapphireMeriadocTook:  Glad you like the little nicknames!  They just seem so natural, to me.

Lady Cinnibar:  Let’s hear it for the breaking of tradition!  Thank you for your lovely comments.  (And I love the idea of your annual Read Through -- my newest set of the books (less than two years old) are already starting to wear out!)

Lady Jaina and Orangeblossom Took:  It’s the little things, both in conversation and thoughts, that really bring a story to life, I think.

Lady of Ithilien:  I can’t bear it when Frodo is unhappy, either -- that’s why I wrote “Sing Me Home”!

LadySandrilene2: Wow, thanks!  And you betcha -- Sam has waited patiently since “Quarantined” to meet Aragorn’s ‘sweetheart’, so I certainly have to bring at least these two together.  (And don’t forget that Merry and Pippin eavesdropped on the Council in the movie, but not in the book.)  Was it really 11 days between updates?  If only real life would stop getting in the way of writing.

Lady Wind:  Ch. 13 was rather “calm”, wasn’t it?  I don’t think we’re going to have many more “calm” chapters for awhile.  (And thank you so much for the “horse lingo” -- I’ve never ridden a horse, so I need all the advice I can get.)

LilyBaggins:  Lily, if you hadn’t liked Chapter 13, I would have rent my garments in despair!  Wasn’t it lovely of Prof. Tolkien to say that it rained for two days?  More FroAngst to come, of course -- this is a very rich part of the story.  (You suffer from insomnia as well?  There sure are a lot of us.)

liptonrm:  Finally a chance to say “thank you” for your incredibly lovely review of “Sing Me Home”.  I’m delighted that you’re enjoying my stories, and your reviews are wonderful.  (And yes, I do “mentally spend much of the day with hobbits”!)

LOTR Sparkling Pippin:  I hadn’t thought of that!  If Merry does get something, you’ll know it was your idea.  And many thanks for what you said about my lack of name “repetition” -- it’s a challenge, and sometimes I forget to pay attention, but I do try very hard not to repeat something over and over.

Michelle Frodo:  Yes, great (hobbity) minds do think alike!  As for how many times I’ve read the books, I haven’t a clue.  I started reading them in college, 25 years ago, and I’ve worn out three or four full sets of the Trilogy.  Plus, whenever I write a story, such as this one, I’m doing constant research in the books to make sure I’m “true” to the story.

mina:  Thank you again for your incredible e-mail.  I’ll try to keep your trust!

Nilmandra and Pansy Chubb:  One of the aspects of the first film that bothered me was that the hobbits (especially Frodo) were portrayed as almost completely helpless.  Whenever I can show them as assertive and competent, I jump at the chance.

Pearl Took:  Pippin is wonderfully distracting, isn’t he?  I’m proud of him, as well -- and all of them.

reginabean:  You’re writing!  Go you!

Rosa Cotton:  I’m glad you liked the “groping, whispering, waiting darkness” line.  Yes, it’s waiting all right; I haven’t yet written the chapter at the Ford, but I suspect it’s going to be fairly dark and creepy, like Chapter 8.  Oh, and you noticed that I got Sam and Merry to leave Frodo and Pippin for awhile -- it’s not easy to get them to do that, you know!  To answer your question, Arador was 14th Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and his son, Arathorn, was 15th.  Aragorn was the 16th, and last Chieftain.  (And “Tears and Flowers” is a lovely, touching story.)

ScifiRogue:  You’re never going outdoors again?  (Until the next time.)  Did a Balrog eat your tent? The last canoe trip I took, I was eaten -- by mosquitoes.

SperryDee:  Someday I’ll taste an oyster, but that day hasn’t yet arrived.

TreeHugger:  As usual, your review made me think.  I like how you observe that the hobbits “are being forged into what they will need to be”.

VercisIsolde:  What a compliment!  I see these characters as unique and equally important individuals -- I’m so glad it’s coming across.