WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON

Chapter 5--- No Safety

"Boromir, are you listening to me?"

Boromir was brought back to the present with a jolt. The fifth night of their journey found their boat drifting some distance behind Aragorn's, sliding down the Anduin under a thin crescent moon and brilliant stars. Merry was seated next to him, paddling a bit, while Pippin lay half asleep among the packs and baggage behind them.

"Forgive me, Merry. What were you saying?"

Merry spoke just above a whisper, as they had all grown used to doing. "You've been so still, with such an odd look on your face. You've done nothing but stare at... Boromir, are you staring at Frodo? Are you angry with him about something?"

"Angry?  No."  Boromir flushed and thought quickly. "I'm just still learning about hobbits, you know. Frodo has always seemed different, quite unlike the rest of you. He even looks quite unlike the rest of you."  He was unprepared for the response.

"I know," Merry sighed solemnly. "It's a problem."

"A problem? Is Frodo considered ill-favored among the Shirefolk? It is difficult to believe."

"No, of course he isn’t. Still..." Merry sighed again. Boromir was completely confused, but relieved the subject had been changed so quickly.

"Frodo's felt different all his life, you know," Merry continued. "Just being an orphan would have been enough. Then he was a Baggins among Brandybucks, then a Brandybuck among Bagginses... Bilbo saw to it that he was the best educated, best dressed, best everything. He stood out; lots of folks were jealous and mean. And of course he grew up to look like, well, that. Different, different, different. And all he ever wanted was to be a part of things just like anyone else."

"Then he got the Ring," piped up Pippin, who had been listening. "And now everything's hunting him and chasing him, it's like he's all lit up in the dark. More different than ever. Poor Frodo."

Both hobbits fell silent for a moment, contemplating the cruel destiny that had been their gentle cousin's life.

"I was 11 when it started... remember, Merry? At the Party? I felt so grown up being allowed to stay up that late.."

Boromir stopped listening long before Pippin tired of recounting some extravagant party Bilbo had apparently thrown for himself.

"Here, Merry, I'll paddle for a bit," Boromir said softly, bringing their boat closer to Aragorn's and sinking back into his thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*

"I know what I heard, Mr. Frodo. And I know what I saw."

"I believe you, Sam." Frodo and Sam lay together in the rear of their boat, gazing back past the other boats, looking and listening.

"What's so fascinating back there, Frodo?"

Frodo got up carefully and sat next to Aragorn.

"We're being followed. Gollum."

"Ah yes," the Ranger said. "He's been on our trail since we left Lórien. I had hoped that with swift paddling and this icy water we could outdistance him, but apparently not. Did Sam hear him?"

"Yes," said Frodo. "And I've seen him -- several times, always at night."

Aragorn looked at him. "Frodo, I tracked that creature for months and know how difficult he is to see. Has he come that close to you?"

"No, not close." Frodo sighed. "But he doesn’t have to.  Ever since the Morgul wounding I've been able to see quite well in the dark. I don't know why." He grew thoughtful. "The Ring doesn't want to be found by him again, but he's drawn to it. The Black Riders could smell it, I think, and Gollum just... just knows where it is."

"And you?" Aragorn asked quietly.

Frodo glanced at Sam, who was watching him. "Except for a few moments here and there, it's not been out of my possession for 17 years. If it was, was taken..." Frodo could hardly bear the thought. "Yes, I would know where it is. I would pursue it, as well."

"Don't worry, Mr. Frodo," Sam said encouragingly. "No one's getting at that thing until you're good and ready to get rid of it. That's what we're all here for, after all."

*~*~*~*~*

The hours passed slowly as dawn approached, and Pippin found it nearly impossible to sit still. He traded places with Merry and sat next to Boromir, casting about for some topic of conversation.

"Boromir, doesn't anyone use this river? There are no bridges, no boats, no people... where is everybody?"

Boromir put his arm around him. "You have seen battle, little one, but you have not yet seen war. The South is at war, Pippin. The eastern shore is either uninhabitable or held by the Enemy, and it has grown unsafe to dwell or farm too near the western shoreline. Perhaps someday the Anduin will be safe once again for bridges, boats, and people. Not yet. Not yet."

"Not until the Ring is destroyed; I understand. We just have to get Frodo to that mountain."

Get Frodo to that Mountain.  As simple as that.  Boromir shook his head.  These innocents cannot imagine what lies ahead.  He was about to speak when Aragorn began to paddle strongly toward the shore, to a small inlet beneath looming cliffs.

"Wake up, Merry," Pippin whispered. "It's time to make camp and get some sleep."

*~*~*~*~*

Later that day, Frodo and Boromir took watch together, sitting on a large, flat rock where they could keep one eye on the towering cliffs ringing their campsite and one eye on the eastern shore.

"It's good to see Aragorn get some sleep," Frodo said quietly. "I don't know how he does it."

"Aye, he reminds me of my brother in that. He can also go long days and nights without sleep or rest." Boromir motioned toward Pippin, walking around a short distance away, inspecting interesting rocks on the pebbly beach. "Even young Pippin has learned to need less sleep!"

"Boromir, it is good of you to keep an eye on Pippin and Merry, but you must tell us if you grow weary of it! We do not always need to keep to the same boats."

"I have grown quite fond of them, Frodo. It is anything but wearying to be around them." Boromir’s smile faded. "They love you very much. They are worried about you."

"I know," Frodo said. "I am worried about them, as well. I have been thinking. If I choose..." he motioned to the eastern shore. “...perhaps you and Aragorn should take them with you to Minas Tirith when you leave us."

Boromir chuckled. "Frodo, I doubt very much Aragorn will leave you, whichever path you choose."

Frodo turned to face him, frowning. "At the Council he pledged to accompany you to Minas Tirith. I have just assumed... do you say he might not go?"

"I do not know his thoughts, but the leadership of this Company must weigh heavily upon him since Gandalf's fall. If you choose to attempt Mordor from the north, I believe Aragorn will accompany you. But it would be more practical to come first to my city, Frodo. For news, for counsel, for supplies..." Boromir paused. "I cannot imagine that Elvish bread alone will keep anyone alive for long in the wasteland that lies to the east."

Frodo was about to answer when a sudden flight of birds from the cliffs directly above startled him. Spies of the Enemy? Something up there? Or nothing more than it seemed... He sighed.

"I no longer know what to think, what to trust. Everything you say sounds reasonable, Boromir, it's just... Boromir!"

He and Boromir both saw it at the same time -- a boulder had somehow become dislodged from high above, and was tumbling and bouncing down the cliff-face directly at them. Boromir yelled out to the others as he grabbed Frodo and ran the few yards to the bottom of the cliff, pressing them both against the rock face and shielding the hobbit with his body. Frodo heard a tremendous crash, and felt everything shake. Small rocks spattered the cliff wall around them. Then silence.

Boromir knelt, and turned an ashen-faced Frodo to face him. "Are you all right?"

Frodo nodded, stunned. "Are you?" He flung him arms around the Man. "Thank you," he gasped. "What about--" He looked over Boromir's shoulder and caught his breath, his eyes taking in the scene in an instant. The boulder had smashed down directly where he and Boromir had been sitting, sending large and small missiles of rock flying through the campsite. Fortunately, almost everyone had already been lying down, if not asleep. What remained of the boulder lay some distance away, and the flat rock-seat was cracked and splintered. Gimli had risen to his feet and was staring grimly upward.  Aragorn was running... Sam and Merry were running... running to...

Boromir let go of Frodo and raced toward the small crumpled figure lying motionless near the boats.

"No," Frodo whispered, stumbling forward. No.

Frodo dropped to his knees beside Sam, staring in disbelief at Pippin lying unconscious on the ground. Broken bits of rock were scattered everywhere.

Merry held Pippin's hand as Aragorn gently examined a swelling on his left temple. To Aragorn's relief, his probing fingers elicited a faint groan from Pippin.

"That's a good sign, Merry. Boromir, would you get my pack?"

The Ranger lifted Pippin carefully and carried him over to the young hobbit's bedroll. Sam started to rise when he realized that Frodo, kneeling beside him, was pale and shaking.

"Mr. Frodo! Are you hurt?"

Frodo turned tear-filled eyes to Sam and shook his head.

Sam put his arms around his friend. "I know you’re upset, sir. We’ve seen you bad hurt, more than once. But you've not seen much happen to one of us. It's a shock, I know. But he'll be all right, Strider will heal him right up. You know Mr. Pippin, by suppertime he'll be..."

Frodo buried his face in Sam's shoulder, scarcely hearing the soothing words. What if Pippin had been killed? First Gandalf... what if someone else...? Because of him. They were all in danger because of him.

** TBC **

Amy:  I believe that Frodo did know (or suspect), after all he heard at the Council, that Aragorn would become King if the Quest succeeded.

Anso the Hobbit:  I agree, Aragorn kept his fears to himself -- although in the book, he voiced a fear that he was making incorrect decisions for the Fellowship.  It’s nice, in fanfiction, to give him (and all of them) someone with whom to talk and share feelings.

Armariel:  It’s been interesting learning to write Elves and Dwarves in a believable way; I’m so glad you like ‘my’ Legolas!

aprilkat:  To me, Frodo certainly didn’t “fail”; he vowed to take the Ring to Mordor, and he did.  And because of his (and Bilbo’s and Sam’s) pity for Gollum, the Ring met its doom.

cpsings4him:  I don’t know whether or not Elves dream, but I thought it would be interesting to speculate that they don’t have “nightmares”.  I suspect that eons of memories crowding in on them are oppressive enough.

Cuthalion:  Thank you so much.  I do believe that the Ring found whatever way It could to steer otherwise good and decent people toward darker thoughts.

Dreamflower:  It’s wonderful when we can deepen the friendships between characters; it’s certainly one of the great joys of writing fanfiction.

dwarftacular:  Thank you!  I enjoyed figuring out how to write Gimli for this story.

French Pony:  There really did turn out to be a huge difference between Ring-bearer and Ring-destroyer.  Hopefully Frodo was able to find peace with the fact that “destroyer” wasn’t his part to play.

Garnet Took:  I love the image of Aragorn comprehending that Gandalf’s “fool of a Took” is in line to be Thain and steward of the Shire.  It was fun introducing Boromir to that concept in “Avalanche”.

girlofring:  You may very well have read this story before!  I never said I hadn’t posted it – only that I hadn’t posted it to this archive (Stories of Arda).  A non-beta’d version has been on fanfiction.net since 2002.

Grey Wonderer:  Frodo did have rather intense and ‘clairvoyant’ dreams all through the Quest; I find it interesting that the Professor gave him that gift and ability, and have tried to explore this in several stories.

harrowcat:  It’s nice to think that Frodo might have been considering Sam’s future so early in the Quest.

Larner:  Frodo had such an unimaginable burden throughout the Quest, on every level.  It’s a challenge to try to expose even one layer of it.

Linda Hoyland:  That’s why I never thought Frodo “failed” in his mission – he only vowed to ‘take’ the Ring to Mordor.  Whatever happened after that was up to Destiny, I think.

Lindelea:  Thank you for such long and thoughtful reviews.  I think the Professor’s world is just an infinite playground, and we’re all so fortunate to have found one another to share our love for it.  And speaking of fortunate... Wow, that lightning story is frightening!  You and your brother were very lucky.

lovethosehobbits:  Thank you so much for comparing this to “Avalanche”!  I actually started writing “Avalanche” less than two months after finishing “Whispers”, and I know this story taught me a lot.

Pearl Took:  Poor Frodo really did come across in the books as rather pessimistic (or perhaps fatalistic) about his future.

SlightlyTookish:  It’s a challenge writing “Gimli scenes”; there are more to come!