How Dark the Night (Complete Now)

Title: How Dark the Night
Author: Elf Maiden
Summary: Frodo finds comfort in Moria

This first part is PG/PG-13ish, but later parts will be more explicit.
Reviews gratefully appreciated. :-)

How Dark the Night

Before they’d entered Moria, Frodo hadn’t known what true darkness was. Night time in the Shire had been full of light. Lanterns and candles flickering in the windows of inns and Hobbit holes; starlight and moonlight a welcome guide to travellers on their way.

In Moria, there was only the small arc of light cast by Gandalf’s staff, but Frodo was sure that the further into Moria they went, the dimmer that light grew. When they stopped to rest for the night, it seemed to sputter, as if the darkness of Moria was absorbing even that little bit of brightness, along with his hope.

Was it even night here? Frodo couldn’t tell without seeing the sky and stars. How could the Dwarves stand it? He felt the weight of mounmountain above him and tried not to think on it. Not to be able to feel the soft brush of grass against his feet, nor the wind caressing his cheeks. Not being able to gaze at the sky. Not being able to see the stars was the worst for Frodo. He missed the songs they sang to his skin.

His fascination with the stars was unusual for a Hobbit, but ever since he could remember, Frodo would find any excuse to go outside at night and stare up at the sky. When he looked at them, it was as though his skin was tingling with the beginning of a song he didn’t know, but soon, he would discover its meaning. He was filled with such yearning, as though he wanted to climb into the sky and then fall slwoly back down to earth, cradled by a net of starlight. He stared about the gloom of Moria and sighed. There would be no starlight to soothe him here.

He squirmed on the rock, trying to get comfortable, but no matter which way he turned, all he could feel was bare stone. Sam was lying a few feet away from him, snoring softly. Frodo smiled to himself. The snores didn’t annoy him like they had on the first few nights they had journeyed together. Now they were a sense of reality in something that had become exceedingly unreal as they days went by.

Merry and Pippin were on the other side of Sam, lower limbs tangled together as though they were one entity, not two. Pippin was nestled in the crook of Merry’s arm, his head resting atop Merry’s chest. Even in sleep, Merry caressed Pippin’s curls. Frodo felt a pang in his chest at the sight. They looked as though they belonged.

Frodo didn’t know where he belonged anymore. What was he but a silly small Hobbit from the Shire, who spent more time reading about life than actually living it? He wasn’t brave, nor foolish, and wondered what had made him volunteer for this task in the first place. It was an impossible task, yet he was expected to carry it out. What could he do?

He shifted again, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. He thought longingly of his big bed back at Bag End, with feather pillows and crisp sheets. Night shirt and sheet fresh with the scent of lavender that Sam used to air all Frodo’s belongings. Maybe that was it, he had too many clothes on to sleep well.

Frodo sat up, removing his cloak and overcoat. In the end he took his westkit off as well. The coat, he bunched up and placed on the rock for a makeshift pillow. When he lay back down again, his neck ached a little from the awkward angle, but at least it was better than bare rock. He pulled the cloak up under his chin for a blanket.

He squawked when the light from Gandalf’s staff went out completely. In that instant, Frodo Baggins realised something about himself. He was utterly terrified of the dark. He closed his eyes to shut out the darkness of Moria, but was rewarded with the image of a fiery Eye devouring him whole. His eyes snapped open again.

It was as though he had become suddenly blind. He could see nothing, not even dim shapes, just blackness. He whimpered and turned his head, muffling his cries against his coat. There was no need to wake the others and have them learn of his cowardice. But Frodo had forgotten how keenly Elves could hear.

“Frodo?” asked Legolas, sounding nearby. “What ails you, little one? I hate to see you so distressed.”

Bad enough to be discovered in his weakness, but mortifying that it was the brave Elf who had discovered him. A sob erupted from somewhere deep inside Frodo’s chest and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Frodo sat up, hastily rubbing his eyes to remove any evidence of his weeping, before belatedly realising that Legolas could see perfectly in the dark with his Elven senses.

“Frodo?” the voice was a whisper this time, as if he did not want to wake the others. “Will you not trust me with this?”

Frodo could hardly speak. His breath hitched in his throat as he tried to stop crying. “I - I do trust you Legolas. It’s just - it seems so silly now. I am a grown Hobbit after all.” Frodo peered into the gloom trying to make out shapes. He thought he saw a glimmer of silver, which could have been the Elf’s hair, so he directed his voice there. “I - I fear the dark,” he admitted quietly. “I feel so ashamed.”

“And why does this shame you, gentle Hobbit? For to admit one’s fears is the first step on the road to conquering them. We all have fears, Frodo. All of us.”

“Even you?” Frodo found it hard to imagine that the brave being would fear anything.

“Yes, Frodo, even me.”

“I’m scared to sleep,” said Frodo, feeling more confident now that he had someone to talk to about what was bothering him. “When I close my eyes, I see him. His Eye, always on me. I fear that if I sleep, he will do something to me. Something I won’t know about.”

“I sense it isn’t the darkness you fear, Frodo, but what might be within it. You fear the unknown, as do we all. What dangers may lurk that you cannot see?”

“Yes, that is it, Legolas. I can’t see anything. Not even you.”

“Lie down, Frodo. Let me see if I can ease you enough for you to sleep this night. It is a long and dangerous road ahead, and little Hobbits need their sleep!” Frodo had to imagine the smile, for he could not see it in the dark. He wondered what Legolas had in mind, a lullaby perhaps? But maybe that would wake the others.

Frodo lay down on his right side, facing away from Sam. He heard Legolas settle into the space between the two Hobbits. Frodo tossed and turned, trying to find the most comfortable spot and he heard Legolas chuckle in his ear. Frodo stilled completely when he felt the Elf’s hand stroking his back.

“Legolas,” he breathed. “What are you doing?”

“I am trying to ease you, Frodo, but you are as wriggly as a new caught eel! No wonder you cannot sleep. You must be still. Relax, Frodo. Imagine you are on a deserted beach. Listen to the sound of the waves on the shore.”

“I don’t know what the sea sounds like, Legolas. I have never been there.”

“A river then, think of how the water laps against the bank ever so gently. Breathe with the water, Frodo. Feel yourself in the current. Breathe.”

Frodo’s eyes fluttered closed as he listened to the soothing tones of the Elf and felt the hands make small circles on his back. Although he still wore his shirt, and the mithril one beneath it, he could almost fancy that the felt the Elf’s hands on his bare skin and he shivered at the delightful sensation. There was no Eye now, just Legolas’ voice and Legolas’ hands caressing him, stroking him to the edge of sleep. Frodo sighed deep in his throat. He had turned to water, he was the river and he was floating away downstream, stars wheeling in the sky above him. Frodo snuggled deeper under his cloak and into slumber. But before sleep could fully claim him, he felt the soft brush of lips against the back of his neck and he sucked in a gasp.

“Goodnight, meleth,” whispered Legolas before Frodo knew no more.

TBC