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Shadow to Flesh, Drabble, rated G

The veil has lifted, and the bubbling fire that surrounds them does not burn as deep as other fires. During their last desperate crawl, Sam flickered like a frail shadow at the edge of the fiery eye, and Frodo clung to it, thirsty for that last shred of awareness that things still existed like earth and green hills. Even in the cavern, in which Frodo had hoped to be shielded from the Eye but found it burned more fiercely than ever, that shadow begged him and nearly kept him from claiming. Now shadow is flesh, and Frodo clings to him.

Companion to This drabble: At the End

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More drabble!
Glass, drabble, rated G:

Frodo had once fallen dreadfully ill as a child in Brandy Hall. Normally rosy-cheeked, full of rascally life, he had found it nearly unbearable to be confined to the sickroom. Watching his merry cousins run about in fresh air had driven him nearly mad with restlessness. So clear and delicate was glass, yet it had such power – it divided the world of darkness from fresh air and sunshine.

“Frodo!” Pippin was larger than life in his soldier of Gondor garb. “You’re hundreds of miles away.”

Frodo smiled sadly, for that glass pane once again divided him from all he loved.

Previous in the series:

1. At the End
2. Shadow to Flesh