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towerofanimus2012-11-08 05:18 am
the road goes ever on and on
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.
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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? ]
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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.
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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.
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[ Of course he met his fate by going because they went through Moria. Yet if they had not he would not have returned as The White, which would have undoubtedly led to the victory of Sauron and his ally Saruman. What terrible things happened, he will make sure Frodo sees and realize what good they eventually led to.
Yet what little words Frodo spoke were enough for Gandalf to draw conclusions. The Hobbit thought he was dead, yet someone told him he was not. This should not be possible, this is not how it happened in Middle-Earth. The most probable alternative is hat Frodo does not come from middle-Earth, much like Reno and many others. ]
You are on the twenty-second floor of the tower if you want to know. How, in what purpose... So many questions and so few answers I have to offer you. Yet I am certain it is no hazard if you found your way to this place as many have before you.
[ Obviously Gandalf returned the embrace and laughed, albeit shortly. he could tell Frodo was not as he once were. They had much to talk about now, but he could see the paintings on this floor were also something that pained Frodo, as much he may like some of them. ]
But let us walk to less nostalgic floors. There is much we need to discuss, all in time.
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still..how was he to explain the tranquility? it had been a few months since he'd been taken from his mission. his expression fell quietly as he took that into account.
gandalf will understand. perhaps he'll know about that, too. it was a fool's hope. gandalf know many things, but he did not know everything. he had learned that much from all the events that had transpired.
when they parted he kept his eyes squarely on gandalf, or anything but the paintings. they were a torment he'd rather not look upon. he could not bear to think the green fields of his home were gone forever. ]
I would rather hear answers from you than anyone. You're right. I know less than I would like and there's much I mean to speak with you about. I've seen many a strange thing since we parted.
[ just as they had began, with the ring in bag end, once more frodo looked up at gandalf expectantly, very much the same hobbit but so very different at the same time. ]
Please lead the way, Gandalf.
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And I am afraid you will see stranger things even. I will provide you what answers I can, but many only you will be able to find through your personal experiences, discoveries and researches. [He pointed the door with his staff and started walking.] This way.
[ Gandalf led the way out of the art gallery, not so quickly but at a steady pace either way. He smiled at Frodo when he looked up at him expectantly. The sad truth was that, Gandalf didn't have all that much answers, and what answers he had... Frodo may not like them. ]
What strange things you have seen since, was it solely in Middle-Earth in the purpose to accomplish your quest? Or elsewhere as well?
[ A fool's hope maybe. But maybe more than a hope as well. From what little he's seen and heard so far, Gandalf is pretty certain Frodo may have been in another world before-- But better be sure. ]
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No, I was not only in Middle-earth. I came to a strange ship that sailed through stars. Have you heard of it? They call it the 'Tranquility'. It was full of darkness, but good people could be found there despite so many terrible things happening. I've been there for months...though they count their time differently than we might. Legolas and I were there for a time, before it had been Aragorn and Lady Arwen alongside us.
[ something strange passes over frodo's face, like a shadow, as he quietly lifts his eyes, hands moving to his cloak. pulling down on it, he shows his neck, covered in bruises and indentions as if it had been carrying a heavy weight for too long. but what else could it be, but the innocent ring dangling on the end of the chain?
the shadows under his eyes seem more prominent than ever before. ]
My task..isn't finished, Gandalf.
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A ship? Yes, I have heard of such a ship and met one who had spent time on-board once. However it was not named the Tranquility so we will have to assume more than one such ship sail between the worlds...
Legolas is here as well, as was Aragorn for a short period of time. I have never seen lady Arwen here however.
[ He stops in his track though as Frodo says what he feared he may hear and it may be a glimpse of fear and horror in his eyes as he sees the ring. They did not need that in the tower and Frodo shouldn't have to bear it even in this tower. ]
As I feared...
This is not how it should be my dear Frodo. I am sorry you still have to bear such a burden, but I can assure you would your quest not have been interrupted now the ring would be no more, for I have witnessed your success in completing your task.
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[ a look of relief passes his face ]
We seperated when I arrived. I'd be glad to see him well. Much of our time spent there has been together, since it has been only two of us.
[ he sees that look gandalf, and his eyes lower. one of the worst things was seeing his friends worry for him, and know there was nothing that could be done to sooth them. not until his task was finished. the ringbearer looks up, and because it is gandalf, he does not bother hiding the look of exhaustion, of pain on his face. ]
There were many things that should not have been, yet they happened, Gandalf. I am familiar with the way of things now.
[ and words like that..coming from gandalf of all people. were like an absolution. he can't help but twist his brows in despair at his words ]
To think that I would be free of it if only I were at home. If I were to ever be free of it again! Such words are both a pain and a joy -- I cannot decide which is more.
[ a pause, and it looks as if there might be a wetness behind his eyes again, as frodo's voice comes out faint, ragged but earnest: ]
And Samwise? He is well? I cannot imagine him anywhere else than at my side at such a thing done. I cannot see myself doing such a feat without him.