Disclaimer: All the characters and settings (except for the five curious children) belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. This story is my way of working out ideas and concepts already present in The Lord of the Rings. This is done for enjoyment, and for sharing, but not for profit.

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Chapter 2: Solitude

A thin keening sound came to his ears. It wailed fitfully, dying away only to return. He shuddered, wishing that he could block his ears to the seeming anguish in the voice, but he knew that that would accomplish nothing. It was the wind, of course, which had been blowing all morning, and it wouldn't stop simply because it fretted him. High up in the Citadel, the wind often blew even though it might be a beautiful day. But today was overcast, and clouds scudded across the sky.

He was alone at last. Not many people idly walked along the high walls of Minas Tirith on such a day. Those who did usually were on their way to somewhere. But he, wrapped in an extra cloak, and his back wedged against a corner block of stone upon the wall, was settled and would go nowhere.

Nor did he have anywhere to go, if he had wished. Well, that was not strictly true, he thought to himself. There had been many invitations to meet people, tour the city, simply chat with those who were already familiar to him, but the clenching tightness in his belly at the very thought of it stopped him from accepting any of the offers. The worst of all was when there was an attempt to honour him, either in a formal event, or simply by the people of the City who, whenever they caught sight of him, would stop and desire to speak with him.

He felt shamed by his ingratitude, but even more he felt shamed by the mistaken fervour of the people who did not understand the truth--that he was guilty. He was guilty of the most heinous crime: betrayal of all the free peoples of Middle Earth.

A gust of wind shook him suddenly, whipping his dark curls against the side of his face. One strand lashed just at the corner of his eye and it stung. Frodo shook his head involuntarily, his eye watering. A slight sound came to him then, one that did not blend with the shrieking of the wind. It was a slight scrabbling sound, accompanied by excited whispers. With a sinking feeling, he resolutely stared out into the distance. Perhaps if he didn't look, then whomever it was would give up and leave him in solitude.

* * *

"I saw them, I saw them! All three!" crowed Alnoth. "They were heading to the Guards' mess hall with the Dwarf and the Elf: Meriadoc, Peregrin, and Samwise."

Manrim and Telgan stopped dead and stared. "You didn't!" "When?" Their excited voices barely carried above the wind, but that didn't bother them.

"Just now! They are there now. I was really close, too!"

"Now? They are there now?" Manrim quickly looked up and down the street. "Let's have a look."

Telgan hesitated. "But children aren't allowed in that section..."

"Doesn't matter," Alnoth said defiantly. "We won't be seen. I know how to get there without any of the adults seeing. Follow me."

The three ran up the alleyway and scrambled over a low retaining wall. Unnoticed, but not far behind, the youngest of their group followed, slipping through gaps confidently and with familiarity of oft explored underways and throughways overlooked by the older inhabitants.

* * *

Gimli laughed. "That would be a good sight to see, friend Pippin here, covered in mud from head to toe. And such big toes!" He took a long pull on his mug of beer and set it down with a thunk. "I wonder, Legolas, if a hobbit could set himself free once his feet were mired in the mud."

"I wouldn't know," Legolas mused. "But I would imagine, with such a covering of hair, that mud would accumulate at such a great rate that it would be perilous indeed to allow them to venture out into the Fields."

Pippin laughed merrily, looking down at the elf's small feet. "Then I would simply holler for Legolas to run across the top of the mud and pull me out! I need fear for nothing with such help nearby!"

"Watch out, Pip," Merry said, shaking his head. "Those are rash words. They might just convince the Guard that it would be all right to send you out."

"Not a chance. I have enough to do when I am on duty. I would only be in the way out there. Besides," he added with a shudder, "that’s nasty work."

He got up and nonchalantly moved to the window. Suddenly, there was a crash outside and startled yelps quickly fading into the distance.

"Good heavens, what was that?" Merry got up and joined him, peering out into the gloom.

"Children," said Pippin with a grin. "I know them. They're friends of Bergil and they've been following us."

Sam, hitherto silent at his meal, also joined them. "It's too bad they won't come in and join us. I wouldn't mind meeting some of them, at that."

"Well, it isn't hard to find them, Sam. They'll find you first! I just hope they don't go bothering Frodo up on the wall."

"Is he up there now?" Legolas asked curiously. "I thought hobbits did not like heights."

"And on this day," Gimli added. "The wind will blow him over. You little folk are doughty, but it is unwise to go too far."

"Frodo doesn't mind heights as much as some," Merry said, "unlike Sam here," he added with a grin. The grin then faded. "But Frodo's changed. I wouldn't think he'd notice them now."

"What happened earlier," asked Legolas. "You began to tell us something about why he stays away from us all, but you did not finish."

"He's got some notion in his head about not belonging with us. He won't tell us exactly why, but he's refusing even to come to the mess hall for meals now." Pippin nudged Sam slightly. "Even Sam can't get him to join us anymore."

"We all went to his room this morning, determined to have it out with him," Merry added. "We weren't going to allow him to burrow away any longer. But it didn't do any good. I swear, he beats any hobbit for stubbornness."

"It isn't healthy," Sam said. "He just sits there and keeps whatever it is bottled up tight." He fell silent again, settling back into his gloom.

"Would not Lord Aragorn speak to him?" said Legolas. "He has great wisdom and could, perhaps, convince Frodo to talk of his troubles."

The others looked at him thoughtfully.

* * *

"You silly oaf! What did you go and drop him for!" Manrim demanded. The children had hastily retreated around the corner and were hidden from adult eyes.

"You would too if Peregrin saw you through the window!" Alnoth responded hotly. "Besides, he's heavy."

"So what. I'm older than you," Telgan said, resentfully."I should be. Next time, I'll lift you up, and I sure won't drop you!"

"Hey, Fellen, what are you doing here," hissed Manrim. "Did anyone see you coming?"

Fellen inched around the corner and shook his head.

"Doesn't matter," Telgan said. "No one ever sees him if he doesn't want them to. Right?"

The younger boy nodded earnestly. "Did you see them," he asked hopefully.

"We did!" Telgan danced a jig in triumph, only to stop when the others shushed him somewhat nervously. "Five of them together. The elf, the dwarf, and... the three Pheriannath!"

"I know where the fourth one is," Fellen ventured, almost reluctantly.

"You do?" The others rounded on him excitedly. "Good old Fellen. Where!"

"Not far from where we saw the others last night. Up on the wall."

"Marvellous! Come on then, let us go and see!" The boys scrambled to their feet and pushed Fellen on before them.

Moments later, they were crouching at the end of a wall by a narrow gateway. Fellen had shushed them worriedly as they had scrambled up a steep incline to reach the gate. More and more, he regretted telling them about the Ringbearer. They could see him plainly now, huddled in a cloak and looking out over the City. Something was wrong though, and Fellen now felt that they shouldn't be there, intruding on the Pheriannath's privacy.

"Why is he up there and not with the others," Alnoth whispered. "He looks pretty grim."

"Well," Fellen whispered back, with a sudden feeling of loyalty. "He is the Ringbearer. He's not like the others. Remember what he did to the Dark Lord!"

The other children shuddered half with remembered terror and half with the delight of seeing such a hero who was so far above normal folk that he could stride fearlessly into Mordor and do what no other dared to do. Somehow, they felt that such a being would not interact with others quite in the same way.

"He is the same height as us, I wager," said Manrim. "Although not you, Fellen. You're shorter." He paused, reflectively. "I wonder who would be taller, if we were to stand back to back."

"You certainly wouldn't," an annoyed voice came sharply from behind them. "Come! You shouldn't be here. Get down from there."

Startled, the children hastily scrambled back through the gate and down the incline. Beregond was standing there, arms folded, his face stern.

"I know that you want to see the halflings," he said more softly now, "but you mustn't bother them, unless you are invited. Especially that one." He nodded towards the wall above them. "Come, you are late for noon meal. Bergil has been wondering where you are."

Chastened, three of the youngsters followed him down the steps. However, pulled by an irresistible urge, Fellen slipped away at his first chance and returned to the wall. Choosing a slightly different spot, and crouching silently as a mouse, he watched the Ringbearer's face and wondered...

To be continued.