exsiliumlogs | Intro log

Date & Time: 11/8, Evening
Location: INITIATIVE HOLD
Characters: Frodo Baggins & you!
Summary: Frodo sits down, has what Bilbo would call a Good Think, and finds it doesn't help any at all this time
Warnings: None

Cloak tugged about him, Frodo finally sat upon a pair of steps. In his hands lay the strange parchment, the one the woman had called a tablet.

It was certainly a lot to take in, and Frodo was certain that he hadn't actually gotten it all in fact. United Earth, the Initiative, weapons that might think or speak. It was hard to believe any of it. It was harder to believe this wasn't a dream. It seemed he had only just settled down with the others in the Golden Wood. Aragorn had gone to sleep earlier, with that skill and ease it seemed only Rangers and Elves had, and the rest of them sorely needed. It had taken a good deal longer, but he must have dozed off sometime after the others. This seemed, Frodo thought uncomfortably, much too real for any sort of dream. How did one walk right into their company, and carry him off in the first place? How had he not awoken at all during it?

Frodo smoothed out the tablet. The surface felt even and sleek, like glass, and was too thick to be parchment, and too thin and flexible for a book. The surface rippled under his fingers. Frodo removed his hand from it quickly.

Gandalf. Gandalf would know what to do if he-

Frodo's mind turned hastily to Gollum, for the grief was too fresh and the hurt too deep. Anything else. It was unlikely that Gollum would come into the heart of Lothlorien. And if the woman was telling the truth, Frodo was now very far from Middle-Earth. Much further than any hobbit or Man or Elf could imagine. He needn't worry about him for the moment, yet Frodo found himself wondering what he was up to all the same. A thin, white shape, ghostly and fast. Prowling around the borders, hoping to catch them on the way out? Was he dipping his hands into the once clean streams? It was hard not to think of him as such a loathsome creature; Frodo had spent a good many nights listening to Bilbo's stories, and what his description didn't manage, the hobbit's imagination had been more than up to the task. He seemed foul, repulsive, monstrous... pitiful. But determined. After all, he had followed them from within Moria itself, and before that, from Mordor, coming at last to the Golden Wood; orcs and the Shadow and Flame would not deter him from what he hunted for. If Frodo managed to find his way back, there was no doubt that something must be done about the creature. He wished he knew what. Above all, he wished Gandalf were here.

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"And for me, it has been weeks. They told you of their manipulation of time, did they not?" Her smile turned a little apologetic; it was not so long ago she was as confused and frustrated as he- in all honesty, she was still frustrated. "I arrived in much the same manner as you, I imagine.]

Weeks. It seemed that time did work as differently here as the earlier woman had claimed; the Lady hardly seemed the sort to exaggerate or make light of being caught in this place. "Yes, they did, but I found it hard to believe it at first."

Frodo stepped even closer, as if things would be safer, more stable around her. It had seemed that way in Lothlorien. The dark of Moria touched the edges of the Golden Wood, but it was hard to believe it could push in through it. Like Rivendell, in a way. "I would never have imagined anyone could capture someone like you."

There is something of the safety of Lothlórien about her still; Nenya still sits on her finger, diminished though it may be in this place. Galadriel continued to smile, though it turned a little rueful. "It appears I am not so untouchable as I seem."

How he wished that were not true! The world seemed a much safer place if Rivendell and Lothlorien could remain against the Enemy, but as these things often went, the truth of it turned out to be quite different from the stories and whispers. They were strong, of course, and had lasted longer than his own people's memories went back... but they could fall in the end, given enough time and enough of the enemy's hate at their doors.

"Yes, but perhaps your very presence is what may bring hope to everyone," Frodo said after a moment. Not only for those that might otherwise lose their lives to the war, but to all those they called Transports.

Edited 2012-11-21 07:09 (UTC)

It was a funny thing about Frodo- so young, so inexperienced in the way of things and yet he had a way of hitting at the heart of matters. She was a symbol of hope and she knew it. Oh, part of it was natural, of course- she was who she was. But part of it was very much purposeful. She knew the power of hope and how necessary it was.

"I would be honored if that were so. But tell me, what may I offer you? This place is new to you still; you must be in need of aid."

It seemed to him a certainty that she would bring hope, and inspire it in others.

Her question took him by surprise. Offer him? Frodo looked taken aback by the very question; one of the very fairest of the Fair Folk, asking what she could offer a hobbit of the Shire? The request itself might have stunned Samwise out of all words, and Frodo took a long moment to think it over.

"I do not know what a hobbit of the Shire could ask of you," Frodo replied. "But yes, it is very new, and little of it familiar at all. If there is anything you have found or think would be good to know, I would be grateful for that much."

But Frodo is no ordinary hobbit of the shire- he is a ringbearer, as is she, albeit of a lesser Ring. It's a bond between them, though he may not yet realize it.

"I might show you something of the workings of that device, if you wish it, but I will admit that others might be better suited for that task."

"Thank you very much for the offer. A lass tried to show me some of its workings earlier," Frodo said. Then, after a moment, had to admit. "I am afraid I feel rather old and stuffy looking at it. It seems much more complicated than simply writing a letter, and perhaps more trouble than it is worth."

Especially if it could be turned on without notice, and worse, show others all over what was happening. As convenient as the tablet seemed, it seemed to have plenty of drawbacks.

"I am inclined to agree. Its use warrants a fair amount of caution."

It wasn't just what it would show the other transports that concerned her, but the likelihood that members of Initiative itself might be watching the network. It was a far cry from her mirror or even the palantíri, but some dangers remained the same; where one can see, one can be seen and watching, let alone speaking, had a tendency to attract attention.

It seemed it was very serious a risk after all, if she thought so. Frodo took care folding it, and slipped it into his pack. It would remain safe there, for the moment, and with little chance of showing everyone anything too interesting if it did happen to come alive on its own. "Turn on", that had been Shelke's word for it. It wasn't anymore alive than a lake reflecting a sky or a polished metal.

"Is there any way I may be of use to you in this place, my Lady?" Frodo asked.

Of use to her? She was scarcely certain of her own plans here, let alone how he may help her with them.

"You are kind to offer. There is little you can do for me, I think." But there were certain things she needed to know. She hesitates slightly before continuing. She says nothing more openly, speaking into his mind instead.

"You have it still?"

Frodo's hand twitched as if to make even the slightest move towards the Ring, as if to keep it from her. He clasped his hands together instead.

"Yes," and Frodo had lowered his voice. He could not be sure who was near or who might be watching, and he had learned just how important this could be after Bree, and the danger of loose lips. It had been an especially painful lesson. The Lady was the keenest person he had met, and she had, according to what he heard and those around him, peered into their hearts. She would have known of the Ring and the Quest even if it had never been spoken to her. "I never remove it."

The Ring sat on the chain, seemingly light as a feather now, as if it might drift off from him, and Frodo found that this disturbed him more than if it had been exceedingly heavy or if it had burned hot.

Again, she watched him carefully. It was cruel of the Initiative to prolong his burden, she thinks. There's little she can do to help him, she knows, though she wishes it were otherwise.

"Good. We will speak no more of it." She knows she doesn't have to tell him to keep it secret. The last thing they needed here was a conflict over the Ring in addition to all else they faced.

A strange relief stole over him, followed by disappointment. They would not discuss it, and he found some part of him preferred it immensely that way. Too many people so far seemed much too eager to talk about the Ring, staring at it even if they got only a glimpse and continuing to stare at where it had been or gone to, he imagined, with longing. They would think of it and on it too much. At the Council, he had put the Ring down on the pedestal before with no small amount of reluctance, and even then, his eyes dared not leave it for long, other than to watch the others. It was better for all that it was talked little of.

And yet...the White Lady seemed so very wise and so very old, and so very kind. If anyone knew what to do with the Ring, now that poor Gandalf was gone, it must be her. Frodo hesitated. She might be the one person who would know what course to take. He ought to say something.

Instead, he nodded. "Thank you. Have you seen any of the others? Is Aragorn here? Or my kin or Sam?"

Intro log - [OPEN]

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