the road goes ever on and on

[ringbearer]

Characters: Frodo Baggins
Setting: DORM 1-08 > CAFETERIA > > ART ROOM
Format: Prose or Action however you'd like!
Summary: Frodo arrives straight from a spaceship and begins roaming the floors. It's easy to get lost when you're a hobbit.
Warnings: SPACESHIPPPPPPPS and lots of words for an intro!!!

DORM ROOM 1-08 |

Frodo assumes when he wakes that he'll be in the pods, covered in liquid that is supposed to secure his wellbeing on a flying ship. When he opens his eyes he learns that to be another story. Instead of the familiar appearance of his room aboard the Tranquility, he finds himself in one entirely unknown to him. He sits up, hand immediately going to his neck, only to find that around it is some sort of strange collar. Try as he might, he can't seem to remove it, and his hands fall lower until they close around a ring, feeling a pulse as if it were a living thing.

It's only when the hobbit begins to move around, glance at what is very clearly not his room does he see the notes. Nothing looks familiar, and the more I see the less I believe I'm where I ought to be. He holds the letters, begins to read them.

What he finds makes him drop the papers entirely.

Arda is gone. Middle-earth is no more. The Shire is lost.

He couldn't accept it. He had been on the Tranquility for five months but was told time did not pass. It would seem it was a lie. I had dwelled there too long, and now home suffers for it. The hobbit sat on the floor in the middle of his room, eyes blankly staring at the cieling as he began to truly feel the weight of despair, despair with little hope. For so long he had kept the belief alive in his heart that the Shire would be safe if he finished the Quest, that the world would not be dark forever. That as heavy as his burden grew, he might yet return from it it all--he might return and mend with Sam, his cousins.

Was he to believe that all the suffering and loss had been for nothing? If all was lost why did the Ring continue to pain him, to burden him the more and more he despaired? Try as he might to wrap his head around the news, Frodo found he couldn't. All rested on him destroying the Ring but with no world to do this, what had been the point of it all? What more could he have done differently?

For a time he said nothing, simply put his head in his hands, too stunned to even weep, to mourn. Tears pricked his eyes but did not fall. What had been the point of any of it? Have I failed the Quest? Are we to blame, for staying too long?

Could he truly believe any of it? And where had Legolas gone? It was the thoughts of his companion that roused him on his feet, desperate to find him alive, safe and unharmed. That it was all a dream and there was still hope left.

He opened the door.

--
CAFETERIA

Frodo quickly found the Tower to be larger than the Tranquility. The number of rooms, the winding halls and levels quickly made work of an already exhausted mind. By the time he reached the Cafeteria it was with weary feet; made wearier by a heavy heart. As he observed the surroundings, he found it similar to the cafeteria of the spaceship.

Yet it isn't the same, He thought helplessly, finding that despite the food arranged before him, he had no appetite. He could barely stomach the news, he doubted he could stomach a meal. It was with one more glance that he began to make his way out of the area, hand absentmindedly closing around what his necklace carried. He could see no signs yet of his elven friend, and the longer he could not find him, the more dread began to fill his heart.

ART ROOM

By the time he arrived in the twelth room, Frodo had begun to lose hope of finding Legolas. No matter where he looked in this maze of rooms, he could not find his friend. They had been together only moments before, what had changed? Moving inside the room he began to look around. The numerous pictures on the wall were not unknown to Frodo, and some of them had him sucking in a breath at what they were.

In one frame he saw a beautifully painted image of The Shire. For a moment Frodo could do nothing but stare, heart in his throat at the sight of the rolling grass, real or not. It was an image of home and one that written words would have him believe he had failed. There is still a Shire, it cannot be lost. Had he not said before that he could keep going as long as the Shire was safe? Yet how would this place know of it's beauty? The paintings did it justice but it was not the real thing. A frame did not capture the touch of grass, the feeling of a warm sun shining on your face with no fear of darkness near. No, this was not his Shire. It was with a hard swallow that he turned his head away, finding it too painful to look at.

A few more pictures struck him as familiar. Places he'd traveled, a painting depicting the Council of Elrond. Ahead he saw an image of the snowy mountains of Caradhras, the bright golden woods of Lothlorien. Beautiful images from his journey, yet not all were like it. The further down the wall he walked, he began to see things he'd rather not remember or look upon. Images of orcs and goblins in the Mines of Moria, the Balrog of Morgoth..

Yet perhaps what was worst of all was the image of a great eye , staring at Frodo unblinkingly. It was enough to send him staggering back a few steps, hand clenched tight over the gold chain he never removed from his neck. Only a painting, he reminded himself, yet his heart was still painfully tight in his chest, breath still strained. He moved past the portrait, finding even a depiction of the great eye to be dangerous enough. He would have no more things adding to his fears.

Who had painted them all? Were they on the walls as if to remind him of what he'd lost? Things he'd experienced and seen that had not been enough? The hobbit swallowed hard, not removing his clasp over the Ring. He could not believe the letters. It couldn't be true. Sam had said things were worth fighting for, and Frodo believed him in that. Because there were. Good things, good people from all sorts of worlds. So it couldn't have been for nothing. Yet what could he do? He was more lost and far from home than before, and now they would have him believe there was no home to fight for.

And above all Frodo was weary. He had wandered so far the moment he'd left the Shire, and had never stopped. Now here, surrounded by paintings he wondered what it all had been for.

]

Comments

art room

[handstands]

[for whatever reason, Terra almost likes the gallery floor. one interesting and yet still (mostly) benign.

the first time he'd come here, he'd seen similar pictures.]

...Are you a friend of Gandalf? He had paintings like this before.

[Terra approaches, staring in particular at the eye - he'd seen this one last time, a clearly evil thing. he felt it sucking him in again, and turned to the more pleasant view of rolling hills and fields.=

[ringbearer]

[ with so much to process it's no wonder frodo hasn't paid much notice of anyone else who's crossed his path. he'd registered them, certainly, but none of them were familiar.

it's with surprise that frodo hears terra speak. he doesn't know, has never seen him before--he's cause to be wary, which is exactly how he looks when he takes the boy into account.

of course, then he mentions gandalf. aragorn had told him that gandalf lived, was known now as 'the white' before he'd left the tranquility. it had given him hope but with the latest news..for a moment he wonders if he's hearing him right.

his voice is careful, brows furrowed ]

You know Gandalf?

[handstands]

[the body language all tells Terra he needs to know; this...small person (not a boy as he first thought?) is clearly new, and from unhappy circumstances.

sounds familiar.]

Mm. He's here. A very kind man.

[Terra points to the eye--]

He told me about Sauron-

[--then pointing to the fields and hills]

-but I think I like this one much better. Where is that?

[ringbearer]

[ it's surreal. to hear this boy speak of gandalf, to hear that he might be here surely with answers and news that is true, not these lies that home is gone. it simply could not be gone.

when he speaks his voice is quiet, heavy. ]

Yes. He is--a very dear, wise friend of mine. If he is the same Gandalf I know..I would very much like to see him, if I could. He would know more of this place than I do.

[ his eyes follow where his hand points, and there's a tightening in his chest. frodo once again stares at a painting that illustrates a home long departed from. ]

That is a painting of a part of the Shire, a land in Middle-earth. I have seen many lands but I have found that none can compare to it.

[ a pause, his voice slightly strained: ]
I would also call it my home.

Cafeteria

[clumsyjesus]

[Hey, Frodo! There's a girl behind you and she's carrying a tray. However, she has just tripped and may fall on top of you unless you dodge out of the way!]

[ringbearer]

[ if there is one thing frodo is used to it's having things unwelcome headed towards him. considering his journey he shouldn't be surprised, should be more prepared but he isn't, and when colette draws close and begins to stumble his immediate reaction is to scramble out of the way.

it's a bit too late when he registers that it's only a young girl, and no real threat. (at least that's how it looks).]

[clumsyjesus]

[And poor Colette falls on the floor with her tray, which crashes onto the ground. Food and cutlery fly everywhere. Hopefully none of the fruits or the yogurt will land on you, Frodo!]

[ringbearer]

[ oh gosh. frodo hesitantly moves towards her, reaching to pick up some of the fallen food with furrowed brows. ]

I'm sorry. I thought you were--
[ someone--something. ]
Someone else. Are you alright, miss?

art toom!

[syncingdoll]

<sub>[The paintings she saw were always different, every time Kohaku came here - there was never one for her, the way other people seemed to have them for them, a special little stab that made them stare and stare. It'd only seemed a little meaningful the once, when she saw an empty frame with the blank canvas torn into a smiling face - and Kohaku had thought, well, why not?, and tore the smile a little wider.

Even after the time she'd spent away, it seems there's still people getting struck still by the gallery. The wooden click of her shoes gives her away as she peers thoughtfully at the one painting Frodo seemed the most upset by, just as he's attempting to move on from it.]</sub>

Re: art toom!

[ringbearer]

[ with hobbit hearing, it's impossible not to hear the sound of kohaku's shoes. he stops moving, eyes anywhere but on the picture as he turns his head slightly, glances over his shoulder in awareness at the stranger.

there's something wrong about the room. that people would look at places he's been as if they were nothing more than that--paintings. they were more, so much more and having a painting of the shire for him to stare at, to long for and know it might have been ripped away from him--it's too much. he can't look anymore.

his voice is cautious when he finds it. ]

Do you..know this place?
[ he glances at the picture of caradhras, better that than staring at the shire or the eye of sauron. ]

because this can't end badly right?

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

[Legolas rarely entered the art floor, images of home only providing to make him more homesick. It couldn't be any worse than his encounter with the cemetery floor though and many of the images here were lovely indeed. And he took his time looking over those he liked best while quickly moving away from others.

He nearly didn't notice Frodo, thinking someone younger had stumbled across the painting of Sauron's eye and yet... Long it had been since he'd encountered a Hobbit, particularly one so recognizable. Legolas had to stop and watch him a moment.]

Frodo...

of course not!!!

[ringbearer]

[ it's the voice that causes him to stop what he's doing, to turn his head and take in a familiar, welcomed sight. frodo's face changes, from worn to exhausted, to pained, to carrying the slightest bit of hope. ]

Legolas! I've looked everywhere for you.

[ he begins to walk towards him, brows furrowed ]
I don't think we're on the ship anymore.

mwahaha!

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

[The looks on Frodo's face, the exhaustion and the pain, it worries Legolas. He closes the distance between them, laying a hand on the Hobbits shoulder and looking him over as though worried he was ill.]

You've looked for me? How could you have known I was here?

[Perhaps he'd seen the nameplates on his dorm room but few, if any, of the people here noticed that when they arrived.

Wait... something there sounded strange.]

Ship? Frodo, we did not sail together.

[Obviously assuming that he meant the ships going West.]

cries

[ringbearer]

[ it's a face he knows legolas was familiar with. after all during the months they'd spent after aragorn's parting had drawn them closer as they were the only ones left. still, the touch is welcome, as legolas ia a friend, one he trusts. ]

I can only assume we were brought here together. Yet this place must have seperated us when we arrived.

[ the next words throw him off completely. frodo tilts his head slightly, begins to frown. ]

What do you mean? Why would you say strange things, Legolas? We've been sailing for months now since we arrived.

Art Gallery

[the_white_rider]

[ The White Wizard was sometimes walking throughout the art gallery- Out of curiosity, in part to admire the art. Why was he here today? Nobody could tell, maybe fate. Some of those pieces of art were truly majestic though and were very informative about the worlds of the many residents living in this tower.

Some were much more questionable, such as the paintings depicting Sauron (or even worse, the one depicting Melkor).

But today, the paintings are not what catches Gandalf's attention. Of course not. No, what catches the White Wizard's attention is the Hobbit looking at them. As it is, as Frodo looks at the paintings he may hear a familiar voice behind him. Most specifically, when he looks at a painting of the Fellowship or the Council. ]

Someone here has great talents, I cannot help but admire their skills. However, they didn't do you justice, Frodo Baggins. Neither did they do to me.

[ As can be expected from Gandalf, he has a straight face and serious tone as he speaks. ]

[ringbearer]

[ frodo's eyes follow the paintings with an ache in his chest. the council of elrond, where it had all began. where he had believed that despite the cost to himself, it had not been in vain. was he to believe now, that it was? he couldn't. he couldn't accept it. what else could he do but believe that there was hope left?

he wished for council, someone to guide him on his road, wherever it had gone, from a spaceship to now a strange, eerie tower. he missed sam, missed legolas and all the other members of the fellowship. he missed gandalf, bilbo. dear faces he had resigned himself to never seeing again when he'd set off on his road.

he hears a voice speak. frodo knows that voice. could not replace it if he tried, he knew it too well. knew it when it grew cross and angry at his uncle, at times himself, as his cousins pippin and merry. a voice that had been a comfort, the first to offer his hand in support when he'd made that fateful choice.

all we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us.

so much wisdom, so much he'd needed it before gandalf had fallen before him, thought to be lost if not for aragorn's words. it was perhaps gandalf who had first had faith in him on the quest, had believed he would succeed--and he found if he were dreaming, that he could not face his friend.

yet that voice speaks his name, and he cannot ignore it. so frodo turns his head, eyes overbright, perhaps with tears and emotions not easily named. it is a tired face that greets him. the hobbit who had flung himself into the wizard's arms once before is no more, at least, for now.

and it's him. it really is gandalf, dearest of friends, wisest of counsellors. and frodo finds he cannot speak, only blink back tears in shock at the sight. he's different somehow, brighter, yet it's the face he knows. the voice he knows. he swallows hard, voice choked: ]

Gandalf?

[ he doesn't know whether to embrace a friend he'd thought lost or assume it to be some dream. if it is a dream, he would think it a good one. he knows little else to say but his name, he's frozen in shock, voice stuck in his throat. frodo never thought he'd see him again, would never hear the voice that had given him so much heart in the past, the fireworks, all the memories of an old friend. could it be more than a dream? ]

[the_white_rider]

[ The White Wizard is certainly glad to see his old friend here- Alive and well. However 'well' the Hobbit may be after all that happened to him. Indeed, Frodo looks much different from when Gandalf last saw him, as they were sailing to the Undying Lands in thee company of the Great Elves.

Tired he is, which may be understandable, but he feels there may be something more. Something he may have seen before.

Yet, was this tower a fate he wished for Frodo, of all people? Certainly not. With all he suffered to bring about a conclusion to his quest, Frodo had deserved rest and peace. This is why Frodo had been allowed to sail with him, and part of him had hoped he was there, safe and under the protection of the Valar whom he believed untouched by the cataclysm.

And this is when the the thought crossed Gandalf's mind: what time did Frodo come from? No one ever came from the same point in time, no matter the world. If he had to guess (and in all modesty the Wizard could certify he was generally quite good at that) he would say Frodo had to come from a point between his fall in Moria and before the completion of his quest. Such a point in time would explain the surprise--

Yet, such a point in time brought to his mind a possibility he did not even want to consider. But he will learn in time. ]

Yes, I am here.

[ It is at this moment that Gandalf's straight face fade- Worries may be seen briefly in his eyes, soon to be replaced by a warm smile. ]

And I cannot say whether you are lucky to be here, too, dear Frodo. But to see you again fills my heart with warmth.

[ringbearer]

[ before gandalf had always seemed to know when frodo had begun to feel the burden. taken him aside countless times before they had reached moria. he'd always seemed to know what frodo had not the heart to say. even with sam, his words of the burden were few and far between.

he struggled to find words. ]

I thought you were dead. It was only after I heard you weren't--..

[ a part of him felt responsible, for choosing the mines to begin with. he felt responsible for so many of the terrible things that had happen. hadn't gandalf been the one to say that all he could do was what he could do with the given time?

once before when he had been a different frodo, he'd laughed and told him it was wonderful to see him. even despite everything, so worn and burdened, the words came to mind again. the hobbit takes a few steps before he moves to embrace the old wizard, blinking back tears. he supposed he had one thing to be thankful for arriving here, if only to see gandalf well and alive. different, but alive. he found himself saying the words again, meaning them just as much.]

It's wonderful to see you, Gandalf. Though I don't know how. I don't even know where we are. I know so little. It cannot be so unlucky, if I am to see you again. So much has happened.

Cafeteria!

[maidenidrial]

[As always Idrial does not exactly plan on eating anything in the cafeteria herself, the food here is not exactly the most appealing of things after all. Even so she enters and takes a quick glance around. She always seems to find someone she knows here or at least someone that looks friendly enough. Her eyes rest on a familiar form sitting at one of the tables...no it can't be....

She will slowly make her way over to him, the smallest of smiles on her lips. Of course he will not know her but she knows of him...]

Frodo Baggins...Do my eyes deceive me?

[ringbearer]

[ frodo recognizes an elf when he sees one. he wasn't given the title 'elfriend' without some knowledge of them. when he sees idrial he stops, as elves are generally benevolent beings, and watches her approach. curious, how she knows his name. ]

I am he, Lady. Though I cannot say I know you.
[ he glances up with furrowed brows. ]
Do you know where we are?

[maidenidrial]

I must apologize for my forwardness I just could not quite believe it was you. I am Idrial of Lothlorien, I serve the Lady of Light herself. I must say that it is an honor to meet you in person.

[She has gathered by now that the people who arrive her arrive from different time periods. She has not yet come up with a solution as to why but she knows it to be true. She simply hopes that Frodo has managed to destroy the ring of power as he had at her time.]

I am afraid I cannot tell you exactly what lands this Tower resides for none of us truly know.

[ringbearer]

You honor me, Lady Idrial. I am not so worthy of such praise, especially from one who serves such a peerless lady.

[ frodo bows his curly head, offers her a tired, but sincere smile.]

There is no way to leave it?

Art Gallery

[marchwarden]

[ It's a known truth that the march warden rarely ventures out without reason these days. After surviving peril after peril, Haldir honestly grew weary of traveling to unknown floors to face unwanted dangers. This perhaps has most to do with his injured hands more than personal preference. They were healing slowly, too slow for the elf's liking. He could barely hold a blade at this point, let alone swing one. Having settled for daggers instead, Haldir ventures forth towards the art room in hopes of passing the time.

He never wandered here before. Not once showing the slightest bit of appreciation for art until he spotted some rather familiar paintings upon the expansive walls. However, his appreciative gaze for the artwork displayed would soon wane once he catches sight of a familiar little halfling. ]

...Does my eyes deceive me?

[ringbearer]

[ the voice isn't familiar, not immediately. so much has happened since frodo traversed the golden woods of lothlorien. too long since there had been a place of rest for his soul, even with the burden of the ring on his shoulders. for a minute he doesn't turn, mind wondering why it sounds familiar. he turns his head slowly, a guarded expression on his face until he takes into account the features.

he knows that face, and there's nothing short of surprise replacing his features now. ]

Haldir of Lorien..Is that you?

[marchwarden]

Indeed, it is I.

[ A faint smile settled on the elf's lips as he neared. Never would he have expected to see this young hobbit ever again. Judging by what the White Wizard last told him, all of Middle-earth had been destroyed. Everyone that they once knew and cherished were gone, and the world was plunged into darkness.

Yet, with Frodo standing before him; it gave Haldir a sense of hope that not all was lost. ]

Nae saian luume'. It has truly been too long.