Chapter 7

The End?

"Don't you move Gollum," Sam shouts as the creature sinks his fangs into Frodo's leg.

Frodo lets out a cry and kicks Smeagol in the face, knocking the ghastly creature off him. Gollum's screams pierce the dreary dawn, alerting the grey figures climbing the stairs and they quicken their pace. Before Sam and Frodo know what is happening, they both are in the talons of eagle's claws and are soaring high up, away from the mysterious riders and Weathertop.

Legolas opens his eyes with a start, glancing back and forth in his room, only to realize it was a dream, well, the part with Bombadil and Goldberry being evil at least. His back burns like fire and his body aches with every move, even the twitch of a finger. Four hobbits lay on the floor next to the bed, all sleeping soundly, with Sam snoring quite loudly.

Frodo opens his eyes and immediately gets up, rushing to the elf's side. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I would have been if it weren't for Pippin and Merry," Legolas responds in a slightly strained, yet still elegant elvish voice. "What happened? How did you-"

"Sam and I were rescued by the eagles," Frodo tells him.

"How long have I slept?"

"For five days."

"Five days?" Legolas gasps and throws the sheet and blankets off him, preparing to stand up when the hobbit puts a hand on his arm.

"You're not well enough to get up. That orc blade injured you deeply."

"What happened to you and how come you are…alive, mellon-nin?"

"That is a story for some other time. You need to recuperate."

"No," Legolas insists, "I want to know."

"But-oh, very well, just to pass the time. Ego mibo orch*."

"Pedin I phith in aniron a nin u-cheniathog**," Legolas retorts.

The End…For Now

*Go kiss an orc.

*I say the words I want and you can't understand me.