Chapter 2
The Hobbits spent the day entertaining me with stories of the Shire, they're home. I avoided talking about myself as much as possible. Hobbits were so different from normal people. They were small, like I said, and wore no shoes. Instead, they had thick hair over their feet to protect them. Small, pointy ears peeked out from the masses of curly hair on their heads. The clothes they wore reminded me of the 1800's. When we reached a thick, gorgeous forest, the Hobbits decided to stop for the night. Sam set up a fire and began cooking some sausages and tomatoes. Frodo lounged in a tree, a long pipe in his mouth. I sat besides the fire, brushing my short, dark red hair with my fingers.
"Why did you decide to trust me? To bring me along?" I asked suddenly, looking at the Hobbits.
"You have something about you...a passion, a good heart, an innocence...your human, but you seem so like us, like a Hobbit and you asked so nicely, the more help we have the better!" Frodo said absently.
But no amount of pushing would get them to tell me what burden they carried to Bree, for I realised right away something was wrong. Something dark.
We lapsed into silence, that only lasted a moment. A sweet, soft singing reached my ears and filled my soul. Frodo sat up, looking around.
"Sam," He whispered, a smile breaking out over his face. Sam looked around aswell. "Wood elves!" They jumped to they're feet.
"Come on Chyler, you'll love this," Sam whispered. I followed the Hobbits as they set off at a run, following the beautiful melody.
The light was fading, darkness was growing as we ran. I had to crouch down while I ran, in order to follow the Hobbits path, but eventually they stopped, hiding behind a large tree root. We peeked over the top and I gasped in delight. Beautiful, glowing figures walked by. They seemed to float weightlessly across the forest floor, making no noise except their songs. I looked closer and noticed they had pointed ears, bigger then the Hobbits own pointy ears.
All of the elves had waist length flowing hair in light colours. The woman wore white dresses with intricate patters on the skirts. They were breathtaking.
One elf led a horse with a beautiful woman seated with unworldly beauty. Another held a flowing white flag. jewels sparkled off their necks, their ears and the crowns of their heads.
"They're going to the Harbour, beyond the white towers," Frodo whispered to me. "The great haven,"
"They're leaving middle earth," Sam put in quietly.
"Never to return," Frodo finished sadly.
We watched silently for a while, caught up in the sad, beautiful melody.
"I dont know why," I whispered suddenly, my lips moving on their own command. "It makes me sad," Frodo and Sam looked at me for a moment before smiling and leading us back to our camp. We finished our food and lay down on the forest ground. It was uncomfortable to say the least. "Every where I move, there's a dirty, great root sticking into my back," Sam complained a little while later.
"I hear you Sam," I groaned, pulling a twig from my red hair.
"Shut your eyes," Frodo said softly, perfectly content where he was. "And imagine your back in your own bed, with a soft mattress and a lovely, feather pillow," I did as he said. I closed my eyes. But I didnt think of my own bed, which was a lumpy mattress on a springy bed. I thought of the time before my parents died. How I would curl up with them when I couldn't sleep.
"Not working, Mr Frodo," Sam said, startling me. "I'm never gonna sleep out here," and I heard him munch on some bread. I smiled and rolled over onto my stomach and used my crossed arms as a pillow. Once again, I thought of my parents...and I was asleep in minutes.
Frodo and I woke at daybreak, well rested. It took a while to rouse Sam and pack up their supplies. I grabbed what I could, but I had no backpack or belt, only my arms to carry.
We continued walking. I followed Sam and Frodo, having no idea where we were or where we were going. I began telling the Hobbits stories of my world...Only I said they were simply fairytales I'd been told as a child.
"Some fairytales," Sam said, once I finished explaining about school systems and my girls my age.
"Yeah, your fairytales are very out there!" Frodo agreed absently. I quickly noticed that Frodo was often staring off into space, not paying much attention to Sam and I.
Not that I could talk, that's how I overcame puberty and my aunt.
We left the forest and entered farm land. The sun was bright and my legs ached slightly.
"We're near Farmer Maggot's farm," Sam told me. He did this often, taking it upon himself to teach me about Hobbits, their ways and their villages. Fortunately, they didnt think it was strange that I knew nothing about their caulture...This was feeling more and more real and less like a dream or an afterlife...I felt like me and I felt alive...is it possible that all of this: Middle earth and Hobbits existed and I was, somehow, zapped here. I chose to believe so.
We walked into more corn fields, these so high I couldn't see over the top. The tips of my hair clung to my sweaty neck. My shirt and jeans were damp and smelly from sweating and sleeping on the forest ground. My teeth were gritty and my hair was beginning to get mattered with leaves and sticks. But I felt exhilarated, unreal and happy. Sam and Frodo were nice, and we were quickly becoming great friends.
I was still surprised when I spoke to them and found myself looking down at their faces. I didnt have the courage to ask their ages, but I figured we were similar in age. And I looked older than my eighteen years.
Frodo was ahead of us, for Sam too seemed to have sore legs. We emerged from the corn onto a narrow path between another field and couldnt see Frodo.
I tensed and was instantly alert, a protectiveness for the Hobbits taking over my sore, sweaty body. I picked up my pace and hurried up the path. Where did he go?
"Mr Frodo?" Sam said in fear, hurrying along the path after me. "MR FRODO!"
"Sam, Chyler," Frodo said, appearing up ahead. I breathed a sigh of relief and hastened to his side.
"We thought we'd lost you," Sam said, reaching us at a slower pace.
"What are you talking about?" Frodo asked, looking confused. I gently ruffled his hair in affection.
"It's just something Gandalf said," Sam explained. They had told me about the brilliant, grey wizard Gandalf. He sounded incredible. We were going to meet him Bree, I was very excited to meet a real wizard.
"What did he say?" Questioned Frodo.
"Dont you lose him Samwise Gamgee," Sam said, looking embarrassed but serious. "And I dont mean to,"
"Sam," Frodo said, rolling his eyes up at me. "We're still in the shire, what could possibly happen?" The words had barely fallen from his lips when two figures burst from the corn on our left. One slammed into Frodo and one into me, and the four of us toppled to the ground. I tensed up once more, expecting a threat, but instead I found another Hobbit on top of me. Vegetables fell around us. I looked over and saw Sam hurry over.
"Hey, get off them!" He growled, pushing the other two Hobbits off us. I stared at them, flabbergasted. They were just like Frodo and Sam. Short, with curly hair and pointy ears.
"Frodo," the one who had knocked Frodo over said happily. "Merry, its Frodo Baggins,"
"Hello Frodo," The one called Merry said, helping me too my feet. "And hello to you miss,"
"Your not a Hobbit," The other stated, staring at me. I smiled at his cheerful face.
Sam pulled Frodo to his feet while the two new Hobbits picked up the fallen vegetables hastily.
"What is the meaning of this?" Sam asked, watching them with a frown.
"Hold these, can you miss," Merry said, pushing some carrots into my arms.
"Oh, umm sure," I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing at Sams face.
The two Hobbits shoved more stuff into Sam and Frodo's arms, their own already full.
"You've been into Farmer Maggots crops, havent you?" Sam demanded.
The sound of shouting and barking alerted us to the Farmer who was approaching quickly. We looked over, Merry and the other Hobbits faces were comical. Merry grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the corn on the opposite side, just as Pippin grabbed Frodo. We began pelting through the corn. I heard Sam behind us as I blindly followed our two new companions.
"GET OUT OF MY FEILD!" Farmer Maggot yelled after us, the barking still following.
"I don't know why he's so upset," Merry called casually, reaching back to tug on my wrist once more. "It's only a couple of carrots,"
"And the cabbage," The fourth Hobbit called over his shoulder. "And-and those three bags of potatoes that we lifted last week. And then the mushrooms the week before."
"Yes Pippin," Merry called back exasperated. Finally, a name to the joyful face. "My point is, he's clearly over-reacting!" I laughed, an exhilarated, carefree laugh. I was surprised my body remembered how to laugh. It felt so good. Surely this is how it feels to have friends!
"Run!" Pippin called from the front of our group. He suddenly halted, so quick that Frodo bumped into him, and then I hit Frodo and felt Merry collide with my back, and finally Sam, who accidentally pushed us all over the edge of what I first thought was a cliff. I let out a surprised shriek when we fell, rolling and tumbling down a grassy hill. We rolled over a small bank and hit the ground, finally still. I was still laughing, my wheezy laugh filling the silence.
"That was close," Pippin said casually, sitting up and looking at me.
"Ow," Merry groaned. "I think I've broken something-" And pulled out a broken carrot.
"Who are you?" Pippin asks me, drawing Merry's attention.
"Oh sorry, I'm Chyler, Chyler Lightwood," I said happily. "Im a new friend of Frodo and Sam's"
"Im Merry and this is Pippin, very nice to meet you," Merry said, dusting himself off and grinning at me. "We don't get many non-hobbits around here,"
"Trust a Brandybuck and a Took," Sam huffed, picking himself up and glaring at Merry and Pippin.
"What? That was a detour...a shortcut," Merry defended, standing and helping me to my feet. I smiled down at him, for he too only reached my stomach.
"A shortcut to what?" Sam demanded.
"Mushrooms!" Pippin says suddenly. The three Hobbits race to a spot nearby where hundreds of perfect button mushrooms grew. Frodo stood in the middle on the dirt road we found ourselves on and looked tense and watchful. I joined him.
"Whats wrong Frodo?" I whispered, my own eyes darting around. Perhaps he heard something I didnt.
"I think we should get of the road," He said, looking up at me fearfully. I looked over at the other Hobbits, but they ignored Frodo's warning, too focused on collecting mushrooms.
"Why? What-?" I stuttered, turning back to Frodo. He was staring down the road, his eyes wide.
The wind picked up and an awful feeling of dread filled me.
"Get off the road! Quick!" He said urgently. He grabbed Sam while I herded Pippin and Merry down the opposite bank and under a big, tree root that provided a perfect little den. We were concealed from the road as the three Hobbits congratulate each other on their bag of mushrooms. I squeezed myself in beside Pippin and Frodo and try to control my breathing.
The sound of hooves approaching sets my nerves on end. I clutch Pippin's hand and stop breathing. Frodo and I look up when we notice the hooves stop above us. Through the roots that provided us concealment, we could see a set of black, scary horse hooves.
The horse snorts and a pair of feet wearing point, metal shoes drop into view. I pull my head back and felt Pippin grip my hand. Sweat gathers on my brow. I do not know this creäture, but anything that frightens Frodo, frightens me.
Suddenly the thing kneels and peers over the mossy log above us. I look up and can see his gloved hands holding the roots, but I cannot see its head. We simultaneously pull back, trying to make ourselves as small as possible to avoid being seen. I look over at Frodo, and then Merry, Pippin and Sam. I feel like I should do something, protect them against this threat. I look at my feet and notice worms on the ground, writhing in what I can only assume is pain, as though the creäture was torturing it just by being there.
Suddenly Sam's arm reaches across Pippin and I to grab Frodo's hand. My eyes snap to him just in time to see him hastily put a gold ring in his pocket. I think quickly. I grab the Hobbits bag of mushrooms and throw them as hard as I can, far away from us. The creature produces a screeching sound and spins away from us. I leap up and pull Pippin with me, grabbing Merry with my spare hand.
I look behind me and watch Sam haul Frodo up. Thank god. We sprint down the hill from the bank, tripping on roots and getting hit in the face by small branches. One particular branch clocks me in the face and I feel my lip split. Merry slides down when the ground levels out, panting. Pippin and I join him.
"What was that?" I choke out, licking away my blood. I got no answer, perhaps they simply didnt know. Sam leaned on his knee's behind us. But we all stared at Frodo, still on his feet before us. He was staring at his open palm and I wondered briefly if he was staring at the mysterious ring.
"Come on," I say, once we've gotten our breath back. "Whatever it is...well we have to keep running!" I pull the boys to their feet and we continue running. I hope the Hobbits have a good sense of direction, because the forest all looked the same to me. My fear spiked when the sun set and the tree's cast frightening shadows. But still we hurried along, slipping and sliding. The screeching noise of the creature kept us going. Kept us alert. They were around, close by the sounds of it.
We hid behind tree's and bushes, me urging Pippin and Sam along.
Frodo and I hurried ahead to check if any cretures were around.
"Anything?" Sam called quietly.
"Nothing," I confirmed. I hear them come up behind us.
"What is going on?" Pippin asked tiredly. Merry came around me to stand before Frodo, who still clutched the tree, looking pale. "That black rider was looking for something...or someone..." Merry said, looking at Frodo intently. "Frodo?" The black haired Hobbit looked at him somewhat nervously.
"Get down!" Sam hisses. We duck behind a bush and peer through it. The silhouette of a black rider looms against the skyline. We hold out breath and watch it turn away and ride off.
"Sam, Chyler and I must leave the Shire," Frodo said suddenly. A rush of comforting warmness ran through me at being included by Frodo, melting the ice in my veins. He really was my friend. They all were...It was too bad we were in such a horrible situation. "We have to get to Bree,"
"Right," Merry said, seeing that Frodo really was in trouble. "Buckleberry Ferry...Follow me!" We burst out from our hiding place, running after Merry. A Black Rider appeared out of the tree's in front of us.
"There's another one! Run, Frodo! Chyler, follow me!" Merry yells as we dodge around the massive horse. I look back as I follow Merry and see Frodo having trouble.
"FRODO!" I yell, desperately hoping he gets away from the rider. The rider's shrieks fill my ears, drowning out my own heartbeat.
"Chyler, hurry," Pippin yells, grabbing my hand. I look back and see that Frodo has gotten around the black rider, only now he was far behind us. We kept running, even with my instincts shouting at me to go back and make sure he's alright.
We keep running. When the tree's finally clear, we sprint across the even ground and hurdle a fence. There, on the water was a sturdy wooden ferry, with only a small rope holding it to the dock. We fall onto it and I immediately untie the rope, holding onto the dock and waiting desperately for Frodo to catch up. I hadn't realised how far behind us he was.
"Frodo!" Sam yelled. I looked up to see him sprinting as fast as his tiny legs would take him towards us, a black rider right behind him.
"Run Frodo!" I yell desperately.
"Go!" He yells at me. I push the ferry away from the dock.
"Frodo! Frodo!" Sam, Pippin and Merry are yelling, all terrified.
"Come on Frodo," I mutter as the ferry drifts further away from the dock.
When he reached the end of the wooden dock he takes a flying leap and crashes into Sam, knocking them both down. But we were safe. Merry grabs the oar and paddles furiously.
I look back at the black rider. They had stopped hastily and were shrieking angrily.
As we watch, it turns away.
"How far to the nearest crossing?" Frodo asks, panting and scared.
"The Brandywine Bridge, twenty miles," Merry answers, staring at the rider.
I pull Sam and Frodo to their feet and together we watch as another two riders continue galloping along the road as their companion joins them, their shrieking still filling the night.