"Hey, stinker! Don't get too ahead of us," I taunted loudly as Gollum scrambled ahead of us to get to some fish that were jumping in and out of the water. 

  "Why do you do that?" Frodo asked. He sounded very offended, which I chose to ignore. I did not feel any sympathy towards Gollum. 

  "Do what?" I asked casually, though I knew fairly well what he was talking about. 

  "Call him names. Run him down all the time," Frodo replied. 

  "Because," I said quietly. I glanced over at Gollum to make sure that he wasn't listening in on our conversation. To Frodo, I added, "That's what he is, Mr. Frodo. He's naught but lies and deceits. It's the Ring he wants. It's all he ever cares about."

  "You don't understand what it's done to him. What it's still doing to him!" he defended through gritted teeth. He walked away and stopped when he could see Gollum. The vile creature looked as though he was having the time of his life, playing in the water. "I want to help him Rivvy," he added in a quiet voice. 

  I gave him a look of surprise and disgust.

  "Why?" 

  Frodo was quiet. 

  "Because I . . . . I have to believe that he can come back."

  Sam and I glanced at each other, full of disbelief. 

  "I hate to burst your bubble, Frodo," I said in a grim voice. "But you can't save him. The Ring has already destroyed him enough."

  Frodo rounded onto me, looking angry. This was not like my sweet Hobbit at all! Frodo was kind, and innocent. Not snappy and angry. I knew that it was the Ring that affected him. 

  "What do you know about it, Rivvy?! Nothing!" 

  His snappy retort startled me. Not only did I feel startled, but I felt overwhelmed, as well. Frodo never shouted at anyone, let alone me. He always had a good sense of humor. But now, the Ring was taking that away from him. I could feel the tears brimming my eyes as I slowly walked away from him. I did not want him to see how upset I was.

  "I'm sorry, Rivvy," he finally apologized, his voice quiet. "I don't know what came over me."

  I took a deep breath, trying to control the tears that threatened to spill. I turned around to face him. It was time to confront my best friend and tell him what I've been noticing. 

  "I do," I replied, my voice choked slightly. "It's the Ring. I've seen you when you think that I'm not looking. You're not eating, and you barely sleep." I walked over towards him and hesitantly took his hands in my own. "It's taking a hold of you, Mr. Frodo. If maybe you could let me wear it just for a little bit to relieve you from the burden —"

  Frodo wrenched his hands from mine, glaring furiously at me. 

"I know what I have to do," said Frodo through gritted teeth. "The Ring is mine! My own!" 

And with that, he stormed away from me, leaving both me and Sam in the dust. I felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me. Frodo had never yelled at me like that before! 

  "Can't you hear yourself?!" I pleaded desperately at Frodo's turned back. He continued to ignore me, storming farther into the fields of Ithilien. "Don't you know what you sound like?!"

  That night, I took my watch. I could feel the tears brimming my eyes. I had to bite on my hand to keep them from flowing down my cheeks as Frodo's words repeated in my head. 

  It's mine! My own! 

  Frodo usually never behaved like this. But I remembered Galadriel's words. The Ring was starting to slowly take a hold of Frodo. I knew this would happen, but I didn't think that it would happen this quickly. 

  After a while, when my tears had slowed, Frodo eventually came up next to me, though he seemed hesitant. I refused to look at him until he spoke. 

  "I'm sorry, Rivvy," he finally confessed. I glanced over at him and saw that he truly looked sorry, and ashamed of himself. Tears filled his blue eyes. "I shouldn't have shouted at you. I didn't want to. . . . But you're right. The Ring is taking a hold of me, Rivvy. I don't know what to do anymore. And I. . . . I'm scared," he finished in a hushed voice.  

  I smiled sadly at him and opened my arms out for a hug. He nuzzled against me, gripping my cloak tightly. I could feel his shoulders beginning to tremble. 

  "You don't have to be afraid, Frodo," I murmured softly to him. I hugged him more tightly. "Sam and I are always here for you. And remember, Frodo: You're never alone." I gently took him out of the hug and placed my hands on his cheeks, getting him to look up at me. I smiled sadly when I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. "Have you gotten any sleep at all, Frodo?" 

  He blushed and looked down, confirming my answer. I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his curls and helped him to his feet. And just in time, too. Gollum had returned from whatever he'd been doing, insisting that "master" should rest. 

  "Master should rest," Gollum said monotonously. "We have a long way to go tomorrow." 

  "You know what? I think we will," I said in a loud voice for him to hear. I tugged on Frodo's arm, pulling him to his feet. "C'mon, Frodo," I added quietly. 

  I led him to a more safe, secluded part of the forest. I got myself situated before letting Frodo rest his head on top of me. He easily went to sleep when I was at his side. 

  Sam and I would have let him rest a bit more during the day, if Gollum hadn't interrupted him, proudly showing off the rabbits he'd murdered moments before. Finally, I had enough. Frodo looked a bit nauseated as well, so I stepped up. 

  "You'll make him sick, you will! Behaving like that!" I spat. I wrenched the dead rabbits from Gollum's hands and clutched the two dead ones in my own hands. "There's only one way we're gonna cook these rabbits. Sam? I'm sure that you have an excellent recipe from home?"

  Sam smirked smugly at me. 

  "You know I do, Miss Rivka."

  He held his hands out to take them and I gratefully handed the dead rabbits to him. There, Sam began to skin the rabbit from its coat and began to cure the meat before tossing it into the pot for some stew. Gollum wailed, clearly distraught. 

  "What's it doing?!" he wailed. Then to Sam, he added, "Stupid, fat Hobbit! It ruins it!"

  "What's there to ruin?" I snapped in return as I threw in some basil leaves. "There was hardly any meat on them."

  Gollum continued to groan in disgust. 

  "What we need are a few good taters," Sam commented thoughtfully. 

  "What's taters, precious?" Gollum asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "What's taters, eh?"

  "Po-tay-toes," Sam emphasized roughly. I giggled at Gollum as he grumbled and covered his hands over his ears. Sam continued explaining, anyways. "Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew." He then added thoughtfully, "Nice, big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish.$ Gollum blew a raspberry, causing Sam to turn and glare at him. "Even you couldn't say 'no' to that."

  "Oh, yes, we could," Gollum protested. "Spoil nice fish!" He then crawled over to Sam and said, "Give it to us . . . . raw. And wriggling. You keep nasty chips."

  Sam glared. 

  "You're hopeless," he grumbled. 

  Sam was about to give himself a taste of the stew, but stopped when he realized that Frodo was missing. 

  "Mr. Frodo?" he called out. 

  That got my attention, and I immediately got mad at myself. Why didn't I notice his disappearance from before?! Sam dowsed the fire before the two of us went to find him. Luckily, he wasn't far away, much to our relief. We could see thousands of men marching in one direction. And it wasn't towards us. 

  "Who are they?" I asked quietly. 

  "Servants of Sauron," Gollum answered. "They are called to Mordor. The Dark One is gathering all armies to him. It won't be long, now. He will soon be ready."

  I glanced over at him, worried about what he was saying. 

  "Ready for what?" I asked. 

  "To make his war. The last war that will cover the world in shadow."

  "We've gotta get moving," said Frodo anxiously. "C'mon, Sam. Rivvy."

  We began to stand up, but Sam stopped him, pulling onto Frodo's arm. 

"Miss Rivka! Mr. Frodo — look! It's the Oliphaunts!" 

  We stopped and watched with amazement as several Oliphaunts came into view. 

  "No one at home will be able to believe this," Sam breathed with amazement. 

  A strange sound came from nearby, and Gollum carefully slinked away. But I didn't care too much about that. I was more interested in the large creatures in front of us. Unexpectedly, arrows shot into the air from all sides, causing us to jump back in alarm. We were nearly crushed by a moving Oliphaunt, until an army of arrows hit it, forcing the creature away from us. Frodo, Sam, and I glanced at each other. Frodo had a dumbfounded look on his face, and not to mention, he looked scared as well.

  "We've lingered here for far too long," he commented, his voice quavering. He began to leave, but Sam and I stayed behind. We didn't move again until Frodo called out to us. "C'mon, Sam. Rivvy."

  We reluctantly followed him, still glancing back at the large Oliphaunt, before a grunt of shock and surprise caused us to look over. I glanced over to see Frodo struggling against a Man who was clearly several feet higher than he is. 

  "Oi!" said Sam angrily as he unsheathed his sword.

  "Don't hurt him!" I pleaded desperately. "Please don't hurt him!"

  I unsheathed my sword, hurrying to get to Frodo's aid. Sam and I were eventually knocked to the ground. I watched fearfully as Frodo and the man who kidnapped him, wrestled with each other. Finally, the taller man was able to get a firm hold of him, wrapping his arms around Frodo's chest.

  "Wait! We're innocent travellers!" I tried again. 

  "Travellers?" one of the men, who seemed to be the leader, echoed in surprise. "There are no travellers in this land. Only servants of the Dark Lord."

  "Do you think that we look like we'd be able to kill a whole army of Orcs, Men, and Uruk-hai?" I retorted snappily. "Because, I swear to you, kind sir, that we barely have the ability to even hold a sword. Let alone, fight with one."

  The man raised his eyebrow at me, though he didn't seem the least bit surprised. 

  "We are bound to an errand of sworn secrecy," Frodo spoke up. The man turned to face Frodo, his full attention on him. "Those who claim to oppose the enemy would do well to not hinder us!"

  "The enemy?" the man echoed, his eyebrow raised. He walked over towards the dead man who had fallen off the Oliphaunt. He turned the dead body over so that we could see his face. He had blood trickling from his mouth. "His sense of duty was no less than yours, I assume." He paused. "You may be wondering what his name was. . . . . or where he even came from. And if he really was evil at heart. What lies or threats led him on this long march from home. If he would have rather stayed there, in peace." He glanced at us. He had no look of remorse of pity in his eyes. "The war will make corpses of us all. Bind their hands."