singillatim | I am naked in the dark

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I am naked in the dark

Who: Frodo Baggins and OTA!
What: Trying to cope with malfunctioning feats.
When: Month of February
Where: Milton

Community Hall - early February

It is barely noticeable at first, though Frodo does notice it. After all, it isn't the first time he has felt it. The sun doesn't rise, and he wakes one morning and his body feels so heavy, too heavy, to move. Then, even as he is surrounded by people, he feels disconnected from them, and he realises his mind is eerily quiet.

For a moment, he feels a cold dread spread through him, with the thought that Sauron must finally have found him. Even though he has long since concluded the risk of that is next to nil.

When he checks the Ring and notices that it's no heavier, that it hasn't started tugging at him once again, he concludes it couldn't be Sauron. Which means it must be the Darkwalker. It is absurd that such a terrible thing could be a comfort, but in a strange way, it is.

Even though the Darkwalker promises an end to the world.

The sun doesn't rise, and so, after that scare, Frodo starts preparing what fresh food is left. Without sun, there is no telling what will happen to the animals and the plants around, and the warmth of the greenhouse may no longer be enough either. The first half of February, he can be found in the Community Hall most of the time, drying meat and vegetables. As the days pass, he seems more and more tired.

Milton - Middle of February

The Interlopers of Milton are managing to keep the rot at bay somewhat, but the forests around it are faring worse, of course. Frodo is returning from an attempt to check his traps, and he's carrying two of them, looking worse for wear as he trudges back into town.

If he sees someone else who doesn't look too busy or too deep in thought, he stops to ask:

"Have you seen any rabbits this month?"

Community Hall and Milton - Late February

Anyone who has spent any significant amount of time in the Community Hall would know that Frodo has lived there ever since he arrived, except for the times he went to the coast and the Timberwolf Mountain. Even outside of Methuselah's feast, he would ensure there was often soup simmering at the hearth and hot drinks available.

Now, however, he appears to be moving out. Over a few days, he moves between the Hall and a nearby house on Blackrock Road, carrying clothes and supplies he's gathered over the months, as well as rations of food. He's moving quickly, keeping his head down, and seems to be intentionally avoiding anyone nearby.

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Shaw is another Community Hall frequent flier - not so much as Frodo, because she has a few other places that she bops around to, but if she had to pin down one singular home base it would be this one. She doesn't have much patience for small talk and isn't very social in general, so Frodo won't have heard much from her since they escaped that fever dream of a burning building together - but when she sees him heading towards the door with a moving-sized bundle on his back, she stops to do a double-take.

"-- You're leaving?"

Her double-take gets one in return from Frodo, because of all people to stop him, he didn't expect it would be Shaw. He doesn't get to think a step far enough to say anything but the truth (although it's not like he really has a reason to be evasive either).

"Y-yes. It ... seems safer."

He couldn't say who it would be safer for, though. Himself, or those around him.

The look she gives him is... skeptical, to say the least. It's the same look she'd give almost anyone who declared their intention to strike out on their own, now of all times - but it's admittedly a bit heightened due to who it's coming from. Sorry, Frodo. She has no idea that you have a perilous world-changing quest under your belt, and you look like a tiny cinnamon roll.

"Safer," she says, flatly. "Is there a fortified city out there that I don't know about?"

She would be far from the first. And Frodo is aware of the instinctual reaction a Hobbit can have on Men, and aware that there are many reasons to question this decision. Nonetheless, he is certain it's the right one.

Right now, he has no intention to fully isolate, but somewhere to hide away is a good idea.

He offers her a smile that's a mixture of wry and understanding, and shifts on his feet. The strange short temper he has had for a couple of weeks seems to be staying quiet, at least for now.

"Do you not feel strange? Not yourself?"

The direct question gives her pause, far more than a standard "How are you?" would have. Absolutely she feels strange. But after everything - everything at home, and then everything here - who's to say that strange isn't her new normal?

"I don't know what myself feels like anymore." It's more honest than she'd planned to be, but what's the point in lying? "But--"

She pauses. Thinks back. Reassesses It seems safer in a new light.

"You feel like you're gonna hurt someone?"

"Maybe." Even as he says it, though, it feels ridiculous, and he shrugs. "I may not be a real danger to anyone here, but ... I would rather not put anyone in that position."

He thinks about Boromir, about the desperate apologies that followed him as soon as he left, and his throat twists painfully. He doesn't want himself in that position, either.

Welp.

Shaw shifts her gaze off into the middle distance, crossing her arms hard over her chest. "Been there," she says hollowly. "I get it."

But she is also a trained soldier with extensive combat experience, not a three-foot-tall guy who looks like he's just out of his teens. She flicks her gaze back to him, briefly, looking him up and down in a way that very possibly gives away her reservations.

It does give away her reservations, and although he just thought about them himself, seeing someone else think them ends up lighting a spark in that temper he's trying to keep at bay. Once again, he thinks about Boromir, about the way the man had ruffled his hair after the Ring seemingly tried to tempt him on the mountain. Even the way he'd practice fighting with Merry and Pippin suddenly seems irritating rather than heartwarming.

A Hobbit knows they seem like children to Men. Unlike Dwarves, they aren't bulky and clearly strong. Normally, he wouldn't blame them either. But right now--

"Rash assumptions are ill-advised," he says, wrestling with the urge to snap or yell, clenching and unclenching his hands.

Edited 2026-04-13 19:07 (UTC)

Anger has always been the easiest emotion for Shaw to grasp at, and that's been especially true lately, even if it looks a bit different on her than it does on other people. She isn't angry now. But she sees it on him, and she respects it: both in the sense of like meeting like, and in the sense that she respects anyone willing to stand up for themselves. Still, though--

"Bears, wolves, and the cold can outclass anyone, no matter how good we are at fighting."

There's a reason she herself largely stays in the Community Hall.

"I'm just saying. Those people you want to spare having to fight you probably wouldn't like it if you died for the cause."

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