Responses to reviews of Chapter 10 from Fanfiction.net will be found at the bottom of the page.

Notes for Chapter 11:  For those who haven’t read “Quarantined”, this chapter references Chapter 16.

BY CHANCE OR PURPOSE

Chapter 11 --- Into the Wild

October 7

Why why why why… Frodo’s thoughts spun in an endless circle, one word pounding over and over in the same rhythm as Bill’s hoofbeats.  All through that first, long day after they left Weathertop and hurriedly crossed the Road, Aragorn leading them south for a time, and then east once again, Frodo grew more angry at himself.  Why had he put on the Ring?  Why?

Frodo was heartsick at the sight of his friends walking near him, weary under the heavier loads they were all bearing.  Why did he do it?  Why?  But then…

“Frodo,” Pippin would say unexpectedly, “you must hear this song I’ve been working on.  Merry thinks it’s dreadful, but what does he know?  Listen…”  And Pippin would sing -- very softly, as he walked next to Bill -- of mischief and childish pranks, and tumbles down hills, and Frodo would smile as Pippin’s clear voice pulled his thoughts out of their spinning, endless circle of blame and fear, and questions without answers.

Aragorn walked in front, but never too far ahead, choosing a route that gave concealment, but also the most level ground so that Frodo wasn’t jostled too badly on the back of the pony.  The area south of the Road and west of what the Ranger called the ‘last bridge’ was wooded with thickets and trees, and would provide tinder for the fire he claimed they must now have each night.  At all costs, he had told them, Frodo must be kept warm.

As the sun began to set on that first day after the attack, Aragorn finally called a halt to the weary group in a sheltered clearing, and packs dropped from aching shoulders. 

As he had done several times that day, Aragorn gently lifted Frodo off Bill.  This time, both Sam and Merry helped support Frodo as he half-walked, half-stumbled over to the blankets Pippin had quickly spread out.

“I’ll gather some wood,” Aragorn said, starting to walk off.

“I’ll help you, Strider,” Sam volunteered gamely.

“No, Sam, not tonight,” Aragorn smiled.  “Just rest for awhile.  I won’t go far.”

As Aragorn disappeared into the trees, Sam and Merry pulled down packs and food bags from Bill, and Sam made sure the pony was tended to before putting all his attention on his master.

“Here, sir, let me wrap another blanket about you.  You’re cold as ice, and no mistake.”  Sam helped Frodo sit up against a pack that Pippin had brought over, and smiled encouragingly at him.  “Now you just rest, Mr. Frodo.  I’ll bring you something for supper, and then you can be off to a good night’s sleep.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Frodo sighed.  “I wish I could help.”

“And you’ll not be helping neither, Mr. Merry, nor you, Mr. Pippin,” Sam declared, turning around.  The two cousins looked up wearily from where Pippin was fumbling with pans and packets, and Merry was clearing an area for a fire.

“Not either of you had a wink of sleep last night, is my guess,” Sam continued.  “You just let me do that.”

They’re so tired, Frodo thought bleakly to himself, and we’ve so far to go.  When no one was looking, he put forth all his strength to try to move his left arm -- but to no avail.  He had hoped that the feeling would slowly come back, and warmth return, but there was no change.  He feared he would never regain the use of it.  The strange, frightening, chill was slowly spreading from his wounded shoulder to his left side; and the pain, which had abated completely after the use of athelas, was beginning to return.

Aragorn made several trips, dragging large branches and tinder back to the clearing, then quickly prepared a small campfire in the space Merry had cleared.  When the fire had caught well, and everyone had eaten something, he finally allowed himself to rest.  He sat with Frodo on his right.  Sam, on the other side of Frodo, was absently feeding small sticks into the fire.  Pippin, curled up in a tumble of blankets, had fallen fast asleep with Aragorn on one side of him and Merry on the other -- and Merry, who had been teasing Pippin about the youngster’s constant yawning, was struggling to stay awake.

Frodo was quiet.  Too quiet, Aragorn thought.

“Frodo, how are you feeling?”

“Estel,” Frodo whispered, “you said to tell you if the pain started up again…”

Sam instantly grew more alert.

“That’s right,” Aragorn replied.  He pulled the blanket-wrapped hobbit against him very gently, and Frodo rested his head against the Ranger’s chest.  “Is it very bad?”

“No,” Frodo said, “not very bad.”  He sighed.  “It’s hard to say if it’s really pain, or just… cold.”

“If it gets very bad, we’ll use more of the athelas,” Aragorn said softly.  “Merry was smart enough to save it.”

“Merry’s smart enough to do anything,” Frodo said drowsily.  “He has to run Buckland someday, you know.  That’s a wild place.”

“It used to be a wild place,” Merry murmured sleepily, “but then you moved to Hobbiton, Frodo, and things calmed down considerably, they tell me.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Meriadoc,” Frodo replied, trying to smile.  He nestled against Aragorn’s warmth, wishing the fire was a bigger one.

Everyone stopped talking, and soon the only sound was the crackling of the sticks Sam was tossing into the small blaze.  Images of the previous night kept him from relaxing.

“You were right about fire, Strider,” Sam mused after awhile.  “You really saved us last night.  Those shadow-things really don’t like fire much, do they?”

“No, they don’t,” Aragorn said, “although I’m not certain why.”

“I know why,” Frodo said dreamily, gazing at the small campfire.

“I thought you were asleep, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said.  “You need to try and sleep, sir.”

Frodo nodded, but continued to stare into the dancing flames.

The last thing Aragorn wanted Frodo to be thinking about was the Nazgûl, but his curiosity won out.

“Why don’t they like fire, Frodo?”

“It’s life,” Frodo murmured, “warmth and life.  They can’t bear it.  It’s the sun they’ll never feel again, and love, and hearts beating, and all the things forever lost to them.  Forever lost…”

“Frodo!”

Frodo blinked in confusion and looked up at the Ranger.  “Yes?”

“Nothing.”  Aragorn guided the dark curly head back down against his chest.  “Try to sleep, little one.”

“I can’t,” Frodo whispered.  But he soon grew too sleepy to keep his eyes open any longer, and Aragorn felt the small one in his arms relax, and the hobbit’s breathing deepen and slow.

“Asleep at last?” Sam asked softly.  “Mr. Merry as well?”

Aragorn nodded.

“Mr. Merry doesn’t get enough sleep,” Sam said boldly, “and neither do you, sir.”

“I appreciate your concern, Sam, but I can go quite a few days without sleep, if needed.”  Aragorn smiled.  “You’re correct about Merry, though -- in trying to see to it that everyone else gets enough rest, he neglects his own.”

“You said we should start keeping watch in pairs, Strider.  I’ll sit with you for awhile, if that’s all right.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

“Did you ever marry your sweetheart?”

The Ranger chuckled quietly at the unexpected question.  “Do you remember that?”

“I could never forget that day!” Sam grinned.  “Meetin’ a Ranger, and ridin’ such a wondrous big horse, and you sayin’… you said…” Sam ducked his head shyly.  “You said she was beautiful as the sunrise.”

“She is indeed,” Aragorn said with a smile.  “We are pledged, Sam, each to the other, but have not yet wed.”

“But it’s been…” Sam stared at the Ranger in disbelief.  “It’s been years.”

“Yes,” Aragorn murmured as if to himself, “years upon years.”  He looked at Sam.  “It’s a complex matter, Sam, for an Elf to wed a mortal -- she and I in particular.  Perhaps we will yet find a way.”

“That’s a darn shame, Strider, that it’s so complicated,” Sam sighed, “but I don’t suppose she looks any older now than she did then.”

“Not by a day,” Aragorn said quietly.

“Like Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo, I guess.”

Aragorn frowned and looked down at the sleeping hobbit in his arms.  “Sam, surely there must have been talk in Hobbiton when Frodo never… aged.”

“More talk than I’d care to repeat,” said Sam.  “Most folks thought Gandalf’d put a spell on ’im, and Mr. Bilbo, too.  They thought it was too much luck for anyone to be so well off and young-lookin’, and all.”  Sam frowned.  “Jealousy and spite, most of it.  Pure nonsense.”

“And you?  Did you wonder?”

“We all wondered,” Sam said thoughtfully, “but you just get used to things, I suppose.  I grew up near Mr. Bilbo, you know, and just got used to things bein’ the way they were.  Besides…” he said heatedly, “…it isn’t luck to lose your folks so young, like Mr. Frodo did, and be left with that cursed Ring and take such a dreadful hurt.”

“No, it isn’t -- but he’s very special,” Aragorn said softly.

“Aye, that he is,” Sam agreed.  “Mr. Bilbo saw it right off, and so did you, didn’t you, sir?”

“Yes I did, Sam, as did Gandalf.”  The Ranger smiled.  “As you did, as well.”

“Aye.”  Sam was quiet for a moment.  “How far is it to Rivendell, Strider?”

“Perhaps a fortnight, Sam -- or less, with luck.”

Pippin mumbled something in his sleep and burrowed closer to Merry.

“Does that youngster know any more songs?”

“Enough to get us where we’re goin’, and then some,” Sam declared.

“Good.”  Aragorn shifted a bit, preparing to lay Frodo down.  “We need to build up the fire.”  Before he could move, Sam had leaped up.

“I’ll tend to it, Strider.  Don’t disturb Mr. Frodo.”

Aragorn nodded and remained seated, grateful that Frodo could sleep.  Frodo.  What would happen to him?  For a mortal to survive an encounter with the Nazgûl was, in itself, extraordinary -- but to be wounded by a Morgul blade… If his suspicions were correct… if Frodo, this dear, special hobbit, fell into Shadow… started to become one of… 

Aragorn felt his heart start to pound as he contemplated what might lay ahead for them all.  This wound would not, could not kill Frodo; he would either somehow find the strength to reach Rivendell, or it would… he would become…

If the worst happens… what will I do?

“I’m makin’ more tea, sir -- will you have some?”

Aragorn smiled and somehow kept his voice from shaking.  “Thank you, Sam.”

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*

Responses to Fanfiction.net reviews:

Adria Skye and Celenathil-the-Elf:  There was nothing I could do!  This chapter just wouldn’t be hurried, no matter how hard I tried to hurry it. 

Aemilia Rose and Grand Theft Author Otaku and Lady Jaina and MaverickGirl and Mysterious Jedi and Nell-Marie and Rosa Cotton and SapphireMeriadocTook and VercisIsolde:  Thank you for your wonderful comments.

Aiko-chan:  Could I love that review more?  Doubtful.  Yes, this is a continuation of the Frodo-and-Aragorn relationship from “Quarantined”, but I suspect it isn’t “by chance, but by purpose” that these five people are together on this fateful journey to Rivendell -- and I’m trying to bring out the essence of all of them.  (Did I mention how much I loved that review?)

Ailsa Joy:  “Angst ridden but fluffy…”  That’s one of my stories, all right!

alysha-sedai:  Thanks for the magical lawn!  Now all I need is a magical lawnmower…

aprilkat and Bookworm and Elwen and Gentle Hobbit and Michelle Frodo and Strider’s Girl:  I’m so glad the individuality of each character is shining through!  I’m trying to show the point of view of everyone.

Aratlithiel:  The story is definitely canon-based; I’m happy it’s a ‘good read’ for you.

Ariel:  If my ‘Rivendell’ chapters are anywhere near as compelling as your story, “Thicker than Blood”, I’ll be thrilled.

AshNight:  I think you just invented a new word: Aragoangst!

Azaelia:  Yes, that’s what “By Chance or Purpose” refers to!  It was mentioned just briefly in Chapter 1, but we really get to see the meaning in Chapter 10.

Azaelia and FantasyFan and Hai and Kit and Obelia medusa:  I am trying to show Pippin’s ‘quality’ -- and sweetness, intelligence, and good instincts.

Belothien and Firnsarnien:  I’m so happy that you’re happy!  (And Belothien -- thanks for the story tips… you never know!)

Claudia and Strider’s Girl:  Writing a sequel is such an amazing experience!  I’m always afraid too many previous references to “Quarantined” will mystify anyone who hasn’t read it, but I suppose it can’t be helped.

Coriandra:  Glorfindel will arrive… precisely when he arrives.  (And how did he get so many intensely loyal fans??  Amazing.)

Delph:  It’s great to hear from you whenever you’re able to stop by and say ‘hello’!

endymion:  Actually, book-Aragorn didn’t carry athelas with him, but was gone all that night looking for it.  I just thought it made sense that “Quarantined” Aragorn would never have been without it.

Haley:  I’m so sorry to hear about your boyfriend’s loss, and I can’t tell you what it means to me to hear you say that something I wrote is helping you to cope.

Idril Telrunya:  Thank you for everything you went through to read and review Chapter 10!  Sam’s song… I’ve had several requests for that, but I just don’t know, yet, what will happen with the trolls.

Insane Pineapple from Naboo:  My goodness, thank you.  (Oh, and just so you don’t get your hopes up, Asfaloth is not going to forget where he’s going and end up in Mirkwood.  No.  Yes, you are wonderfully insane -- don’t ever change!)

Lady Cinnibar:  What a lovely thing to say.  Thank you.

LadySandrilene:  Don’t ever apologize for a long review -- I love reading them.  And thank you for the hug!

Lady Wind:  Great to hear from you, and I’m so glad you’re finding this AU story believable.  (Perhaps the Nazgûl didn’t choose to stab Frodo in the heart, because the shard’s power is only released when the victim has given up and succumbs to the shadows.)  Regarding the Ford, I’m toying with the idea of doing that chapter the same way I did Chapter 8 -- from everyone’s POV.  (But don’t hold me to that -- it’s just an idea.)

LilyBaggins:  I’m unable to stop the banter!  It just leaks out everywhere!

Lindelea:  Isn’t Pippin fun to write?  He’s such a multi-dimensional character.

MagicalRachel and reginabean:  Could there be a better compliment to an author than people saying, “I can’t wait to see what happens next!” even though we all know what happens next?  I can’t get over it.

Master Elora Dannan:  Your beautiful insights about Pippin’s unique ability to “heal” through laughter was a joy to read.  I completely agree.

Melime:  Welcome to Fanfiction.net!  And I’m so pleased you like ‘my’ hobbits!

Miriel:  I will never abandon a story -- I’m as frustrated as anyone else when a story I’m enjoying just…… stops……

pebbles:  You’re so right -- all the ‘gaps’ in the story give fanfic writers so much to write about!

QTPie-2488:  It’s difficult to “lighten” a story about Weathertop, so I’m just letting the hobbits do it for me.  I’m happy you’re enjoying it.

ScifiRogue:  Just for you, I re-watched parts of the movie.  (Oh, what a cruel and terrible fate -- being forced to watch FOTR again!)  Poor Bill did seem to appear and disappear -- for example, I didn’t see him at all in the scene where the Fellowship is climbing Caradhras, at the part where Frodo slips in the snow.  I can’t say I noticed any color changes, though -- maybe someone with a larger TV could answer that.

shantastic:  Frodo kept the Ring, on Bilbo’s original chain, in his pocket (just like Bilbo did).  The first time it was strung around his neck was when he woke up in Rivendell.

shireling:  Welcome back!  Portugal… wow.

SperryDee:  Hope you’ve stopped itching by now!  (I think Pippin has.)

Tigerlily Sackville-Baggins:  I never thought of that!  ‘My’ Aragorn is written as more emotional and warm than Tolkien’s character, but those are the very qualities that Arwen (or any woman) could love.  It’s great to hear from you, and I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story!  Are you working on anything these days?  Another poem perhaps…?

Trishette:  Hope you’re able to get to the Internet once in a while -- internet withdrawal is a dreadful thing!

Treehugger:  As usual, I pored over every word of your review.  And oh! Imagine being paid to write LOTR fanfiction!  That would be true bliss.