A Hobbit's Fate
Disclaimer: This is not among the things I own, which in reality are few. It is owned by Tolkien. I am owned by fate. I do not own this, Tolkien does. I am alive, but Tolkien is dead, which is why I am writing this and he is not. Of course there are other reasons for why he did not write it, but those are probably obvious, so I will not state them. Please read this and review.
Chapter 1: The Final Battle
Before the small army stood the intimidating Black Gate of Mordor, the entrance to the domain of the Dark Lord Sauron. A small, blonde-haired creature stood beside his cousin, fully aware that this could very well be the last time they fought together. Meriadoc Brandybuck was also well aware that there was no turning back. He was a member of the Fellowship of the ring, which had been formed to destroy the Ring of Power. The ring was now somewhere in Mordor with Frodo and Sam, progressing toward Sammath Naur, the only place it could be destroyed. The only hope for Middle Earth was for this small army to blind Sauron to the two Hobbits' cause. Merry felt obligated to do this, although he had been urged to stay in Minas Tirith until his wounds fully healed. He was a member of the fellowship of the ring until the quest was done. A shiver ran down his spine, though, whether from fear or some other source he did not know, but he suspected the former. He glanced at his cousin's face and saw the same fearful resolution that characterizes a hero in the face of death, for death would likely meet them soon.
At the front of the lines, the other members of the Fellowship rode swiftly toward the gate. Aragorn shouted something, but from as far away as he and Pippin were, Merry couldn't decipher what it was. He only knew that as the four riders returned, the gate began to open, and multitudes of vile creatures poured out, encircling the travelers from Gondor. The possibility of death now seemed inevitable, for not even in the darkness of Khazad-dum had hope been drained away from all living things. After facing doom innumerable times since leaving the Shire, Merry was almost content to die here as long as the quest was accomplished.
Then it began. As if in a dream, the Hobbits saw Aragorn dash into the midst of the enemy lines. With a loud cry for the Shire, Pippin and Merry charged after him, the rest of the Fellowship close behind.
"Gee, these things are hideous," Pippin said to himself as another Orc fell. The battle had only been going on for a few minutes, but Pippin decided he was doing quite well. At the moment, he was thinking about the nice pint he would have once they got back to Gondor and how good it would be to see Frodo and Sam again. Pippin turned to check on Merry, but was shocked to find the Hobbit was nowhere to be seen.
Merry nearly cried out in pain as he fought off the vicious Orcs. The arm that had stabbed the lord of the Nazgul, his sword arm, felt as if it was aflame. Merry narrowly dodged an Orc's axe as he switched his sword to his disadvantaged left arm. Then he heard the scream of a Nazgul, and lightning struck through his entire body. The enemy would have made quick work of him, had chance not brought Aragorn, Anduril raised high, to the scene. He was nearly to Merry, when behind him came a cave troll. Merry kept fighting in a blur, certain that a few Orcs had stabbed him but completely oblivious to all, save the quest. Then, as the night at the wake of the sun, the enemy dispersed. It seemed to Merry that the very ground beneath him somehow disappeared and he was falling, growing colder and colder. Then he felt strong, warm hands rescue him, bearing him up until he again felt the earth beneath his body. Then, Meriadoc Brandybuck opened his eyes.