No, exams aren't over. I just got bored and decided to post another. I know, I know *boromir voice* one does not simply change the title of a story, but I've written most of it, and it seems like a more fitting title. You'll find out in chapter Twenty Two.

yes, short chapter, I had writers block.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns LotR


Chapter Twelve: The Forbidden Pool


So, stories exchanged, washed, fresh and filled with warm food, Sam, Frodo slept peacefully. I, however, didn't do my usual self-debate-over-Legolas. It was more of a does-Faramir-feel-for-me debate. Though it wasn't a debate between my heart and my mind. This time, they were in agreement, but my conscience had a brilliant complicate-the-situation idea; why the heck does more than one guy in Middle Earth have feelings for me?

Galadriel had given me a bow and quiver pendant...but Faramir could shoot well, too.

What?

I wasn't even supposed to be in Middle Earth. I felt like an intruder...

Faramir came into the room. For a moment I panicked, thinking he'd come to talk to me. But he just smiled at me, nudged Frodo, and life carried on.

"It's Sméagol, isn't it?" I whispered, "C'mon, Frodo, it's your turn to rescue him."


"We only wish," he hit the fish against a rock, "To catch a fish," he hit it again, "So juicy sweeet!" the fish wriggled. He pounded it against the rock with a wet thunk thwack thunk.

"Sméagol," called Frodo, "Master's here."

"Um, Frodo? Would you mind if I took over? Sméagol! They'll shoot you if you stay there any longer! You might want to-"

Sméagol had seen the archers, and was now complaining to himself that we had tricked him. So, my idea didn't work out as well as I thought.

They dragged him away, kicking and screaming.


PS. I was checking the traffic graph...can someone explain the difference between a view and a visitor?

Review please.