This was an assignment for a literature class--I had to put meet someone from a work of literature. Predictably, I chose Lord of the Rings, and, after deciding that Hobbits were a lot easier to work with than Elves or Numenorean men, I chose Frodo. It came out to be a self-insert of a scene early on in the book that was changed drasticly in the movie: the time in which Frodo, Sam, and Pippin travel from Bag End to Crickhollow.

I watched the two Hobbits devouring the food left for them. They had accepted my presence without question, perhaps because I knew the Elves. Movement caught my eye and I saw Frodo stand up, eyes still sleepy. He saw me and paused, surprised and slightly suspicious. "The elves asked me to accompany you to Crickhollow," I said nervously. He nodded slowly, recognizing me from Gildor's entourage.

"Do you know Gandalf?"

"Yeah." I was here because of Gandalf and his confounded offer of an Adventure. Seeing Frodo up, Pippin bounded over, and I listened as they debated whether to travel by the road or through the forest. I offered my opinion. "We know the Riders are on the road. We don't know if they're off the road. Also, if it's a faster way to our destination, we should go through the woods. . . . Right?"

We set off at a good pace, but that slowed as we reached a thicket. Brambles tangled across a nonexistent path didn't make travel easy. By the time we finally got down a bank, we were sweaty, muddy, and scratched. Sighing, I looked back up the bank and let out a yelp of surprise and dread, gripping Frodo by the arm. The Rider crouched beside his black horse at the top of the bank, peering down the way we had come, sniffing. We dove for cover under the brush.

Crawling under the brambles, I was sure my clothes were completely unrecognizable from the dirt and thorns, and my hair kept catching on bushes and tearing. My face was inches from an extraordinarily hairy and not particularly pleasant smelling Hobbit foot.

"Are we sure we're going the right way? Shouldn't we be out of the forest by now?" I groaned. Frodo paused, frowning.

"Maybe. But after seeing the rider, I'm not sure we should come into the open yet." I sighed. I really wanted to be in the open.

Several miles and some sun later, we were feeling more hopeful. Our clothes had dried, the brush seemed thinner, and we were able to walk upright. I fell into step beside an optimistic-looking Frodo. He looked curiously up at me. "Why did the Elves want you to stay with us?" He asked. I laughed.

"It's Gandalf's fault, really. He asked if I wanted to go on a short Adventure. I agreed. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea," I added, ruefully looking at my dirty shirt. He smiled thoughtfully.

"Bilbo used to tell me about how he ended up on his adventure," Frodo said. "Gandalf offered him a chance to go on an Adventure. Bilbo refused, of course, only the Tooks had Adventures, but he invited Gandalf over for tea the next day. Gandalf came with thirteen Dwarves, and bundled poor Bilbo off on an Adventure. I've always wanted to have Adventures like Bilbo, to see the Elves or steal dragon treasure or go explore new places. But this seems so different. He looked at me, faintly suspicious. "Did Gandalf tell you what this Adventure is about?" I nodded.

"Not in detail but he talked about the ring, and Gollum, and Mordor."

"Only Sam knows. He's coming with me. I'll have to leave the others. I dread having to tell Pippin and Merry that I have to leave. They have helped me a great deal." He paused. I was surprised at his honesty. "I hope they don't try to come with me. I hate to bring even Sam on such a journey." He looked up at me, and I saw how worried he was.

"Take Sam," I said cheerfully. "It will be easier for you, and he would be miserable if you left him behind. It seems good to have someone with you whom you can trust." I laughed. "But don't do it just because I say it. I'd feel bad if something goes wrong."

Tired from the rain and sun and walking, we all flopped down in a grassy spot, and I joined Sam and Pippin in their song. We had just started on it for the third time when we heard a chilling wail in the wind and a moment later another, as though in answer. Our sanguine moods of the moment before vanished, replaced by cold fear.

We stumbled out of the forest into a tidy lane. I was jumpy now, the echo of that unearthly cry in my ears. Night was coming, and we still had a ways to go. Already, the path was dim, and an evening fog floated around us. A dark shape loomed up in the fog, and the terribly familiar clop of hooves reached our ears. I shoved Frodo under the hedge and cringed down with the two Hobbits. By this time, the figure was beside us, drawing out a lantern. Pippin leapt up with a cry of relief. "Merry!"

"Pippin? Why were you on the ground? And who's that?!" He stared at me. Frodo spoke up, scrambling to his feet.

"We met Elves last night. She stayed with us." Merry did a double take.

"She's an Elf?" He sounded . . . disillusioned. I glared, mildly offended.

"No, but she knows Gandalf. Let's go," Frodo added, brow crinkling. "I shall feel much better once we are settled in Crickhollow."

"Very well. But you never answered my first question, Frodo. Why were you on the ground?" Frodo hesitated, and I took matters into my own hands. Even if Frodo wasn't telling Merry and Pippin everything, they should at least know the day's events

"We've been followed by Black Riders. We're a bit jumpy. We heard a horse coming and were afraid they had caught up to us."

"Well then," Merry said, looking puzzled, "let us get back to Crickhollow immediately, and then you can explain everything." He turned his pony about and clopped off into the mist, with the rest of us hurrying after.

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