Wow! Jackie actually wrote a sweet/depressing story! *shock* This is my
first one like this that's Lord of the Rings related, and my second one
overall. It's kinda scary. I'm beginning to frighten myself.
Then again, that's normal.
PLEEEAAAAASE review.
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Here I am, Merry. It's crazy, isn't it; me, here. I barely come up to the waist of the average man, and yet here I am, waiting on the edge of this final, desperate, hopeless battle at the Gate of Mordor itself.
I'm scared, Merry. I'm so scared. I wish you were here with me; at least then I wouldn't die alone.
The Enemy has Frodo, Merry. One of his Messengers showed us the chain shirt that Bilbo gave him, and his Elvish cloak. It's over. There's no hope for any of us now. I suppose you'll know this soon enough, when darkness sweeps the land and all Sauron's forces take over Minas Tirith and the rest of Middle Earth, but I still wish I could be the one to tell you first.
It's strange; you and I being the last two Hobbits. Well, out of the Fellowship, at least. I don't dare hope that the Enemy doesn't have Sam as well; we know Sam never would have left Frodo. They're gone. I wish I could be there to tell you. I wish that even Gandalf, or Aragorn, or anyone that you know could tell you, not some stranger, but I don't think any of us will be leaving this field.
It's so dark, Merry. I don't have any hope left, not for me, not for our friends, not for anyone in Middle Earth. But what hurts the most is that I just got you back. I was in Gondor, you were in Rohan, and it felt then that things couldn't get any worse. Then Minas Tirith was besieged, Gandalf was off fighting, Denethor was mad- then things seemed blackest. I had no hope of ever seeing you again. Then the Rohan soldiers came, and I didn't dare dream of you being among them. But you were, which was both terrible and wonderful all at the same time.
I don't know if you remember- you were so hurt. But I found you wandering on a dark street, lost and wounded. You were covered in blood, Merry, and you asked me if I was going to bury you. That was like a knife to the stomach, that, and I was truly terrified for you. But Strider healed you, and we got a precious short amount of time to pretend that everything would be alright, that things were back to normal.
But they weren't.
Then I lost you again, Merry. Either that, or you lost me, either way, we aren't together now. To give Frodo a last chance, we marched to the Black Gate to keep the Enemy's attention. But you couldn't come, Merry. You couldn't come. You were still too weak from fighting the Witch King. Maybe now I'm glad of that. I wish you were here for my sake, but for yours, I'm glad you're in Minas Tirith.
It's so black. It's so dark. I've never felt so alone.
The Gate is opening. I see them, Merry! There's so many. And it's not just orcs, but there's trolls and Men and the Black Riders- They're coming, Merry. It's so dark. It's so black.
I wish you could go to the Shire for me, one last time. See it untouched and perfect. I never said good-bye to anyone before I left. Not a proper good-bye, anyway. I was just walking to Crickhollow with Master Baggins- Good Old Frodo. My parents knew he'd never let anything happen to us. Well, they were wrong.
I wish you could say good-bye for me, Merry. My poor Mum must've been worried sick when I didn't come back. I wish you could apologize for me.
There's blood on my sword, Merry. It's so dark. It's so black. I miss the Shire. I miss you. I miss Frodo and Sam and Boromir. I miss the old times. I'm not even an adult yet, and I miss the old times. I wish you could say goodbye for me. I wish you could apologize for me. But most of all, I wish you could live. Live for me.
It's so dark. It's so black. There's no hope. Even more blood on my sword now- black. It scares me that the sight isn't unfamiliar anymore.
It's so dark. It's so black. Goodbye, Merry. Until we meet again.
Then again, that's normal.
PLEEEAAAAASE review.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Here I am, Merry. It's crazy, isn't it; me, here. I barely come up to the waist of the average man, and yet here I am, waiting on the edge of this final, desperate, hopeless battle at the Gate of Mordor itself.
I'm scared, Merry. I'm so scared. I wish you were here with me; at least then I wouldn't die alone.
The Enemy has Frodo, Merry. One of his Messengers showed us the chain shirt that Bilbo gave him, and his Elvish cloak. It's over. There's no hope for any of us now. I suppose you'll know this soon enough, when darkness sweeps the land and all Sauron's forces take over Minas Tirith and the rest of Middle Earth, but I still wish I could be the one to tell you first.
It's strange; you and I being the last two Hobbits. Well, out of the Fellowship, at least. I don't dare hope that the Enemy doesn't have Sam as well; we know Sam never would have left Frodo. They're gone. I wish I could be there to tell you. I wish that even Gandalf, or Aragorn, or anyone that you know could tell you, not some stranger, but I don't think any of us will be leaving this field.
It's so dark, Merry. I don't have any hope left, not for me, not for our friends, not for anyone in Middle Earth. But what hurts the most is that I just got you back. I was in Gondor, you were in Rohan, and it felt then that things couldn't get any worse. Then Minas Tirith was besieged, Gandalf was off fighting, Denethor was mad- then things seemed blackest. I had no hope of ever seeing you again. Then the Rohan soldiers came, and I didn't dare dream of you being among them. But you were, which was both terrible and wonderful all at the same time.
I don't know if you remember- you were so hurt. But I found you wandering on a dark street, lost and wounded. You were covered in blood, Merry, and you asked me if I was going to bury you. That was like a knife to the stomach, that, and I was truly terrified for you. But Strider healed you, and we got a precious short amount of time to pretend that everything would be alright, that things were back to normal.
But they weren't.
Then I lost you again, Merry. Either that, or you lost me, either way, we aren't together now. To give Frodo a last chance, we marched to the Black Gate to keep the Enemy's attention. But you couldn't come, Merry. You couldn't come. You were still too weak from fighting the Witch King. Maybe now I'm glad of that. I wish you were here for my sake, but for yours, I'm glad you're in Minas Tirith.
It's so black. It's so dark. I've never felt so alone.
The Gate is opening. I see them, Merry! There's so many. And it's not just orcs, but there's trolls and Men and the Black Riders- They're coming, Merry. It's so dark. It's so black.
I wish you could go to the Shire for me, one last time. See it untouched and perfect. I never said good-bye to anyone before I left. Not a proper good-bye, anyway. I was just walking to Crickhollow with Master Baggins- Good Old Frodo. My parents knew he'd never let anything happen to us. Well, they were wrong.
I wish you could say good-bye for me, Merry. My poor Mum must've been worried sick when I didn't come back. I wish you could apologize for me.
There's blood on my sword, Merry. It's so dark. It's so black. I miss the Shire. I miss you. I miss Frodo and Sam and Boromir. I miss the old times. I'm not even an adult yet, and I miss the old times. I wish you could say goodbye for me. I wish you could apologize for me. But most of all, I wish you could live. Live for me.
It's so dark. It's so black. There's no hope. Even more blood on my sword now- black. It scares me that the sight isn't unfamiliar anymore.
It's so dark. It's so black. Goodbye, Merry. Until we meet again.