By Amanda Pizzolatto
Word Count: 3089
Rated: PG
Summary: Frodo finds another magical ring, meets an ifrit, and makes some new friends.
Frodo wandered near the base of Mount Doom. He didn’t really want to be here, but going to Cirith Ungol was worse. Sam was taking the others towards the pass so they could deal with Shelob. Frodo had gone with them partway, thinking he could manage it, but then they got to the orc base. He became too terrified to take another step. Aragon told him not to worry about it and that Sam could lead them the rest of the way. Gandalf told him to wait for them at the Black Gates before they left him to continue on. He had stood there, watching them go, until they disappeared behind the base. He didn’t know how long he stood there watching, but he had to stop when an uncontrollable itch sprung up on his finger. He went to scratch it, and found only the stub of his finger. The itching vanished, but he still rubbed it. His hand went to the wound Shelob inflicted on him, then to where the Nazgul stabbed him, and then he wrapped his arms around himself. He finally turned and began walking away. He found himself standing at Mount Doom instead of the gates, but looking at it now that the lava had cooled, it didn’t seem too bad. It seemed the land was going to get more healing that he ever would.
He meandered near where the stairs had once been, the side of the mountain nothing but dried lava. He was glad of that; no one could reenter it to make another ring of power. He glanced in the direction of Cirith Ungol. His friends hadn’t emerged yet, but with a spider of that size, it was going to take a while, provided no one got hurt, or worse, killed. Frodo shuddered, recalling vividly his encounter with the giant spider. An itchy finger brought his attention back to the present. Again, he found only his stump. He clenched his teeth as he rubbed it. He hated feeling things that weren’t there, whether an itch during the day or the distinct sensation of someone biting it off in the middle of the night; he just wished it would stop. He let out a breath as a thought came to him. Maybe it would pass away with time; it had only been a couple of weeks since the destruction of the Ring. Perhaps he had to give his finger more time. Or at least, he needed more time to get used to having a stub instead of a finger.
He rubbed his stub again as he glanced at the Black Gate. Maybe he should start heading that way. Gandalf did tell him to wait for them at the Black Gate, and yet his feet retraced his steps to Mount Doom. He didn’t know why, but here he was. He kicked a rock, and paused. Something gold glittered in the sunlight. He gulped, but he bent down to dig it out. He gasped as his eyes widened in shock and a twinge of fear. It was a gold ring with fiery symbols engraved around it. He calmed his racing heart down; the letters didn’t look like they were in the black Tongue. Frodo instead had the distinct feeling of sitting by a fire on a chilly night. A much better feeling than what the Ring had always given him. But, where had it come from? And what did the letters mean? He rubbed it thoughtfully. Maybe Gandalf might know, or at least be able to find out. He stuck the ring in his pocket and began walking towards the Black Gate.
“Where do you think you’re going?” said a snarly voice. Frodo gasped as he came face to face with a couple of orcs. He blanched – he had no weapons!
“Well, where are you going?” said the other orc.
“Out, out of here,” said Frodo, his voice coming out almost a squeak.
“What were you doing in here in the first place?” snarled the first orc as he unsheathed a nasty blade.
Frodo gulped. What should he say? If he told them where the others were, they might attack with surprise and kill a couple of his friends. Then again, Legolas might not be caught by surprise and take them out.
“Well?” said the orc, bringing his blade closer towards Frodo.
“Oh, I, um …” Frodo began to subconsciously rub the ring. What should he say? What could he say?
“Your time’s almost up,” said the orc. “You have one second to tell me, or I’ll …” A blast of smoke startled the three and sent them sprawling on the ground. Frodo covered his head and squeezed his eyes shut as the orcs shrieked, “What, what are you?”
“I am an ifrit, and that is my master. You will not harm him.”
Frodo slowly opened his eyes and raised his head. His mouth dropped in shock and a bit of awe at the figure that now stood between him and the orcs. It was a blazing fire in the shape of a man, with clothes made from smoke and shoes made from lava. Frodo let out a gasp, and the ifrit looked at him. Frodo could see that his eyes were each a blue flame.
“Do not be afraid, little master. I will not, and cannot, harm you. I obey your every word.”
Frodo gulped. Well, this was completely different from the one Ring. That Ring belonged to a fiery being that wanted Frodo to bend to its will, and he did. This ring had a fiery creature that seemed to want to bend to Frodo’s will.
“Do you not believe me?”
Frodo glanced at the ifrit, realizing with a start that it no longer seemed like he was facing a large wildfire or a stream of lava, but that of a cozy fire by the hearth. It was gentle and comforting to look into those eyes.
“I, I believe you,” whispered Frodo.
The ifrit nodded before turning back to the orcs.
“We, we weren’t going to harm him! Honest!”
“He would not have called on me if you were not,” the ifrit said, crossing his arms.
“Right, uh, we’ll, uh, just be going now, sorry to have disturbed you, little fella.” The orcs chuckled nervously as they backed away. They turned and ran off.
Frodo gasped when he saw the direction they were taking. “Cirith Ungol!”
The ifrit glanced at him. “What of it?”
“My friends are there! Though, it is just the two. Legolas could take them out easily.”
“Legolas?”
“Oh, uh, he’s an elf.”
“Ah, then yes, he could.” The ifrit turned back towards the retreating orcs. “What are they doing there?”
Frodo let out a sigh. “They’re, they’re destroying a giant spider.”
“Why are you not with them?”
“Oh, well, I … I was attacked by the spider two weeks ago, and I couldn’t go back in.”
“Understandable. Some wounds need more time to heal than others.”
Frodo glanced at him in surprise before glancing at his hand. “I, I suppose so.”
“Master …”
“Yes?” Frodo glanced up at the ifrit and saw that the hearth fire had become a blazing wildfire.
“There are more orcs heading towards this … Cirith Ungol.”
Frodo glanced towards the Black Gate as more than a dozen orcs marched on the path that would inevitably take them towards the orc base, and where his friends would come out. “No!”
“Shall I stop them?”
“Yes, please!”
“Stay here,” said the ifrit as he pulled up bars of lava around Frodo. “This will protect you until I return.”
“But, wait!”
The ifrit had already taken off, becoming nothing more than a blazing ball of fire as he raced towards the orc patrol. The orcs heard him before he arrived and began firing arrows at him, but since he was nothing but fire, those arrows merely passed through him, though coming out ablaze. The orcs screamed and shrieked as the ball of fire descended upon them. The ifrit turned back into the form of a man and began spewing fire everywhere.
That was all Frodo saw; he couldn’t take the noise anymore. He clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes tight, trying to bar the noise from bringing up dreaded memories. But his mind was already seeing Shelob bearing down on him, orcs tossing him around like a sack of potatoes, Gollum biting at every part of his body, and the Eye looking for him. He tried to bring up memories of the Shire, of Bilbo, of Rivendell and Lothlorien and Galadriel, but it could have been because he was back in Mordor that those memories didn’t help. He felt all alone and that he was attacked on all sides. He let out a scream. He wasn’t sure what he had hoped to accomplish by that, either to bring help or chase away his nightmares, but it surprisingly seemed to work. It had at least helped him calm down enough to realize that everything was silent now.
He sat up and looked towards the Black Gate. There was no sign of the ifrit, or of the orcs. Where had the ifrit gone? The bars of lava still surrounded Frodo, making him wonder if the ifrit had gone to help his friends or was chasing some orcs. He wrapped his arms around his legs as he took a few breaths. He was safe, for now. The ifrit had said that nothing could harm him while these bars would protect him until he returned. Frodo wanted him to return quickly, he didn’t want to stay behind these bars of lava much longer, and he realized that he wanted to know the ifrit’s name. They hadn’t been properly introduced. A small smile came to Frodo’s lips. What would the Hobbits back home think of him if they found out he hadn’t even introduced himself properly? A soft chuckle escaped his lips. Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins would certainly be horrified that he even befriended some strange creature and that Bilbo’s weirdness really had been rubbing off on him.
Frodo’s thoughts finally turned back to the ifrit as realization hit like a lightning bolt. Where had this ring come from? Why was it here? Why had Gandalf never said a word about ifrits? Frodo’s eyes scanned the landscape. Had he been right to trust him? He had told Sam that a servant of an enemy would look fair and feel foul, meaning that Aragorn looked foul and felt fair, just like this ifrit. Maybe the ifrit himself wasn’t the problem, but that he was here. Frodo shuddered to think if the orcs had found the ifrit’s ring before he had. Would the ifrit have even obeyed them?
“Are you alright?”
Frodo let out a yelp as he jumped. To his right was a dwarf, her copper eyes looking at him in concern. Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun, probably to keep it from blowing in the wind and getting caught on fire in the lava bars.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you!”
Frodo let out a nervous chuckle. “No, I’m sorry. I get so deep in thought that I don’t pay attention to my surroundings.”
“Oh, I see.” The dwarf paused as she seemed to scrutinize him. “Where’s the ifrit?”
Frodo blinked. “What?”
“The ifrit, as a matter of fact, the ring too. Only an ifrit can make this,” she said, indicating the lava bars.
“Oh, um, the ifrit is defending my friends, I think. I asked him to destroy a patrol of orcs, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Oh, really?” said the dwarf. “And I assume you have the ring?”
Frodo nodded. “Yes, I found it underneath this lava.”
The dwarf nodded. “Makes sense, ifrits are attracted to warmer climates and volcanoes.”
“Right.” There was a slight pause. Frodo cleared his throat. Um, may I ask a question?”
The dwarf glanced at him and blinked. “Uh, I guess?”
“Well, actually more like a few questions but, um, what are you and the ifrit doing here? This is Mordor!”
The dwarf blinked. “Uh, Mordor?”
Frodo looked at her in shock. “You’ve never heard of Mordor?” The dwarf shook her head slowly. “This is Sauron’s country!”
The dwarf blinked, clearly becoming more and more confused. “Sauron? Who’s he?”
“He was one of the most powerful evils to have ever walked Middle-earth! How could you not know of him?”
The dwarf gasped. “This isn’t Serad!”
Frodo looked at her in confusion. “What? Serad?”
“We came to a different planet!! But why? What in Yelwa’s name is going on?”
“What’s going on, Freylif?” A female Hobbit with golden locks and emerald eyes, unusual colors for a Hobbit, appeared behind the dwarf. Frodo’s eyes widened; she was as lovely as an elf.
“We’re not on Serad anymore, Fralla!”
Fralla’s eyes widened. “What?”
“This hob was just telling me …”
“Hobbit,” Frodo quickly corrected her. The two glanced at him.
“What?” said Freylif.
“Hobbit,” Frodo said again, showing her his feet. The two gaped at him. He glanced at Fralla. “You’re not a Hobbit?”
“What? Goodness, no! I’m a hob!” She lifted up her skirt to show that her feet were in shoes. Frodo stared in shock before glancing back at her face, and then he noticed how different her face really was and why she reminded him of an elf. Fralla had a sharper point to her ears, like an elf, a hooked nose, and an angular chin.
“A hobgoblin, to be exact,” said Freylif.
Fralla placed her hands on her hips. “Hey! We dropped the goblin part ages ago!”
Frodo glanced between them. “You, you really are from another world?”
The two chorused, “Yes!”
“And, and the ifrit?”
“Yes!”
“But, but how, how is this possible?”
Freylif crossed her arms. “That’s what I would like to know.”
“Sandor?” said Fralla.
Freylif shook her head. “He’s not that powerful, though he’d like us to think so.” Freylif then glanced at Frodo. “By the way, who are you?”
Frodo quickly introduced himself, giving them a bit of his story. The two also introduced themselves as Fralla Bixel and Freylif Thoskudi.
“My brother Muno is a merchant!” said Fralla with a hint of pride. “But he does have a knack for getting his nose into things he really shouldn’t and getting into a lot of trouble.”
“My brother’s a smith, and he’s joined sides with Sandor,” mumbled Freylif. Fralla patted the dwarf’s back reassuringly.
“Sandor?” said Frodo.
Freylif sighed. “Sandor is evil, and he wants to take over the world.”
“Sounds kind of like Sauron. And he’s looking for a ring?”
Freylif nodded. “All the rings with ifrits, to be exact. See, he thinks that if he can just bend them to his will, he’ll be able to take over the world much more effectively.”
“Ah, I see,” said Frodo. He took out the ring to show them. “All the more reason to keep this from him.”
Freylif nodded. “Exactly.”
Fralla let out a gasp. “Freylif! What if we let this ring stay here! Sandor can’t possibly get it then!”
Freylif’s mouth dropped. “That’s a great idea, Fralla! We could leave it here and …”
“No.”
The three yelped and jumped, startled by the deep voice. Frodo noticed the ifrit right as he began to lower the bars.
“It would not be at good idea at all,” the ifrit continued as he finished lowering bars around Frodo.
“Why not?”
The ifrit glanced at Freylif once the last bar disappeared. Frodo could now move to wherever he wanted, and seemed to draw closer to Fralla as she got closer to him. “Each planet has a delicate ecosystem; moving one species from one planet to another is very disastrous.” The three blinked in confusion. The ifrit sighed. “Each planet has specific plants and creatures that rely on each other to stay alive. Remove one plant or animal, and the planet could die.”
“Oh,” chorused the three.
The ifrit sighed, and then let out a soft chuckle. “You still do not fully understand, but in time, I’m sure you will.”
“I certainly hope so,” said Fralla, “it sounds interesting.”
“Perhaps I may teach you.”
Fralla smiled. “That’s right, you can!” She turned to Frodo and held out her hand. “May I have the ring back?”
Frodo’s eyes widened. “You’re his ringbearer?”
Fralla nodded. “Oh, yes.”
Frodo paused for a moment before saying softly, “Of course.” He put the ring in her hand, but then held her hand in his. “May I, may I give you some advice?”
“If you wish,” said Fralla, hesitantly.
“Carrying a ring with this much power won’t be easy. There’s a big chance you’ll be hurt by those who want the power of this ring for themselves. But no matter what happens, or how hard it will get, keep on going. Some wounds will need lots of time to heal, others may not heal at all. Keep your friends close and don’t trust appearances; they can easily deceive you.”
Fralla smiled. “Thank you. I’ll remember these words always.” Frodo smiled back as he let go of her hand. She turned to her companions. “Shall we go?”
The two nodded, and the three began walking around the mountain.
“Oh! May I ask a question?”
The three paused and glanced at Frodo.
“Make it quick,” said Freylif.
“What language is written on the ring, and what does it say?”
The ifrit chuckled. “It is written in firle, the language of the ifrits, and it reads, ‘My name is Firan’.”
Frodo smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for taking care of those orcs.”
Firan bowed. “It was my pleasure. Good day, little master, may you live a long and happy life.”
“Thank you. And good luck to all of you with Sandor.”
“Thanks, we’re definitely going to need that,” said Freylif with a scoff.
Fralla waved. “Thanks! I wish you the best!”
“Thank you!”
The four went their separate ways – Frall, Freylif, and Firan to the far side of the mountain and the portal that closed after they all made it back home, while Frodo went to the Black Gates. He lay down and took a nap while he waited for his friends, until he was woken up by Sam. They made their way back to Gondor. Gandalf eventually found out about the incident, after worming it out of Frodo, but Frodo never told another soul about it. It was the only good memory he would ever have about Mordor.