It was dark, and he was cold. That can't be right. He was dead. He could understand the darkness, but not the cold.
Though he was sure his eyes were open, all he could see around him was darkness. So this was how it was, this was to be his reward for claiming the One Ring. It is what he deserved, but Frodo had hoped the time he had spent in Valinor with Sam would lesson the ordeal.
Frodo called out into the darkness, hoping that somewhere beyond the layers of the night, a familiar voice would call out to him. A voice that would be his light in this eternal darkness. But all he heard was silence.
He fell to his knees then, and curling himself up into the smallest ball he could, he wept softly. He wished for at least a small candle to hold back the weight of this hellish nightmare he was going to have to endure for all eternity.
So lost in his own fear and grief, Frodo was not aware of the coming of footsteps at first until he heard a voice shout at him.
"Stand up there! What are you doing just lagging about? Don't you know we must get to the ferry?! Justice has been cast and you cannot hide here!"
A large hand roughly pulled him to his feet, and Frodo looked up to see a dark mysterious man staring down at him. Glancing past the man, Frodo could see nearly a half dozen people standing behind him. Two were Orcs and at least four were Human and they all looked unsavory and dangerous.
Shivering in fright, Frodo looked back up at the man, trying to form words, only to get a rough slap across his face.
"Stop that! Your tears won't help you now! Come! Fall back in line. Now, or I shall give you a taste of my whip!"
Seeing the fearsome weapon and hearing the sadistic chuckle come from the others, Frodo did as he was ordered.
And so they marched. Frodo took up the rear, following with his head down and his tears falling bitterly.
How could this be? How could he weep and be so cold and scared when he was dead? Where was Sam? Where was he being taken? Of what justice did the mysterious man speak? What were they going to do to him?
Shaking uncontrollably, Frodo continued to follow the men and the Orcs as they soon entered a dark tunnel guarded by two stone statues that appeared to be dragons.
A greenish light seemed to emanate from all around the walls and led them in a downwards path. The sound of water was heard and when Frodo rounded the corner of the cave, he stopped in his tracks to see that a small river was before them. Its waters were black as the tunnels themselves and appeared to be devoid of life. At the river bank was a small ferry and there, waiting, was a bent old man with a staff and lantern. At first, Frodo thought it might be Gandalf, but seeing no beard and that he was bald, Frodo felt his hopes crumble.
Weeping even harder now, Frodo tried to see where he was going as the mysterious guide led them towards the ferry, only to stumble several times on the small, sharp rocks on the ground. Frodo half listened as the ferryman ordered his passengers to pay him for their passage on his boat. Each man handed the old man a gold coin and the Orcs handed over a silver one. Frodo stepped forward and then stopped, unable to take another step.
"Well, come on! I must be paid for my hard work to-" The old man paused and made a somewhat disgruntled huff as he peered down at the small form. "What is this? What is this you bring here to me, Grim?"
"Oh, Patter, this must have been a stray from Solen's group. I picked him up at the Four Corners."
"No, you dolt! You imbecile, what have you done!"
As the man brought the lantern closer, Frodo fearfully wiped at his eyes and continued to tremble, wondering what fate was in store for him now.
A hand reached out and gently tipped the Hobbit's head up and Frodo was forced to allow the old man to have a good look at him.
"This is not a murderous, treacherous Human. Nor a filthy Orc. This is a halfling, a Hobbit, I should gather, unless my eyes are deceiving me."
"What difference does it make? He has been judged and must be brought to his proper place."
The old man stared up at the mysterious man called Grim and nearly growled in annoyance.
"You Fool! He hasn't even been judged yet -- look he has not been marked!"
The old man pointed at Frodo's forehead; it was then that Frodo glanced at the others on the boat and saw that each of them wore a red mark shaped like a letter J on their forehead.
"Who are you, little one? Come on now, speak."
Frodo looked up at his annoyed face, and more tears fell from his eyes.
Frowning, Grim reached over to force the creature to talk, but Patter pushed him away from the Hobbit and gasped as he spotted something.
He reached down and pulled the hobbit's hands up to the light and shook his head when he saw that one hand had only four fingers.
"Oh dear, this is not going to look good on your record, Grim."
"What are you talking about?"
Pulling Grim aside the old man whispered into his ear and after a few seconds, Grim's expression changed to alarm. "Oh no. But its not my fault. He was in the four corners."
"It does not matter. You should have checked for the mark!"
"Well, what do we do now?"
Hearing this, Frodo finally snapped and falling to the ground, began to weep.
"Oh now, now. We must not have that!" The older man stepped back and quickly putting down the lantern, pulled the Hobbit into his arms and held him in a comforting embrace.
"Shh! Hush now, it is going to be all right. We shall set things right. Come on. Let me get rid of these wretches and then I will take you upstream."
Without further ado, Grim and Patter got onto the boat and setting Frodo near him, the ferryman picked up his oar and began to row down stream.
As the boat carried its passengers downstream, Patter started to speak and it soon became evident that he was speaking mostly for Frodo's benefit.
"I suppose you are wondering where you are and what this is all about. Well, I shall tell you. This is The Judgment Zone, the place for those who have been judged by Mandos in the Great Halls of the Dead. Those like these creatures here, who led their lives in darkness, doing great evil, are then placed in one of five different plains of hell: the fiery abyss, the watery torment, isolation and agony, darkness, and the purification ritual."
"Pur-ific-ation ritual?" asked Frodo, shocked to find he could speak at last.
"That is a plain that after a period of time adjudged by Mandos, will purify the dark spirit and allow it to be rejudged and re-sentenced...a second chance, if you will. A great many go there. Mostly Humans and Dwarves, even a few Elves. But not many Orcs or goblins."
The Orcs who were standing nearby turned and hissed at Frodo, but Grim quickly took control of them by taking out his whip and cracking it at them. Bowing, they scuttled away fearfully.
Frodo was just as frightened at seeing the whip (though it was not directed at him) and the angry face of Grim, and took cover behind the ferryman.
Patter smiled gently and softly patted the hobbit's back.
"There, there now little Hobbit. Nothing to fear. Grim does not hurt the innocent. He can be a bit of a fool and rash at times, even stupid, but not cruel."
Grim only huffed and put the whip away.
Frodo swallowed and shook his head, and stared up at Patter.
"There are also other plains upstream. Very different from the places we are about to enter. I must beg your pardon for what you are about to see. It was not supposed to be what you were to experience. All I can do is reassure you that no harm shall come to thee."
Frodo felt the boat lurch, and as it turned down another tunnel, Frodo heard the distinct sound of screaming coming towards them.
An arm gently pulled the Hobbit close, as images of fire and shadowy forms appeared on the glassy black walls. A hand quickly covered Frodo's eyes.
Frodo whimpered and shook as the sounds increased and then he realized that some of the screams were coming from the boat. Shaking, Frodo felt arms pull him closer as Grim's angry cries ordered the Humans and Orcs off the boat. When it seemed they did not move fast enough, the whip was once more slashed in the air.
Crying loudly, Frodo clung to Patter. "Gandalf! Gandalf! Sam!" he wailed loudly.
"Hush now, it's all right."
But Patter's soft words did not soothe the frightened Hobbit and Frodo wept and screamed all the louder for Gandalf. Where was he?! Why wasn't he here?!
"Gandalf, Gandalf, save me!"
Then everything went dark once more.
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Story notes: A more in depth storyline as Frodo enters the Halls of Mandos, hoping to be reunited with those he loved from the story, "Someone to Watch Over Me". Tolkien did not write much about the Halls of Mandos that I know of but, being a Mythology expert, I would think it was a bit like the Greek Mythology, the Halls of Mandos being somewhat like the Underworld, and Hades as Mandos.
Beta read by: Achila
Sequel to Someone To Watch Over Me
