Wind whistled through the trees as a sleek, gray Arabian stallion
raced with a large, golden-brown buck. With a whicker, the stallion
took the lead, only to coughed at as the deer stopped. The Arabian
slowed, dancing lightly in place. No longer pounding through the
brush, he also heard the high-pitched scream.
From the sky dropped a streak of gray. It landed on a branch just
ahead of the two animals and chirped, bright black eyes blinking
rapidly. Once the horse and deer looked at it, it jumped and glided
to the ground. Touching down, the gray peregrine falcon shimmered, a
strange sensation on the eyes, and there stood Peregrin Took, who
fidgeted before the horse and deer.
Once the falcon had become human, the same shimmer wrapped around the
two animals, and they also became human. "What are you doing here,
Pippin?" asked Sam, unaware how much he sounded like Frodo had that
morning.
Shifting uneasily, Pippin looked at his friends. "Merry had a vision
not more than half an hour after I talked to you," he said, brown
eyes meeting Frodo's blue. "He's at the Buckland, waiting at
Crickhollow for us."
Both Sam and Frodo started. "That's were we're heading," murmured
Frodo, also looking around at the woods. "We were at Bag End, and
Gandalf called. Said we were to get the ring Bilbo left me, and meet
him at the Prancing Pony."
Pippin nodded. "Merry said the focus was the ring. It showed up in
everything. Fire, blood, and fighting, and the ring at the center of
it all. We need to get to Crickhollow quick, and then on to Gandalf."
Even as Pippin said that, there was a dull roar, one that all three
quickly identified as a motor. Frodo shivered as a feeling of unease
crept up his neck. "We should hide," he told the other two.
"But it might be someone who can give us a ride," protested Pippin.
Sam merely touched Frodo's hand.
"He's right, Pippin. We need to hide." All three men slid into the
surrounding brush. A few seconds later, the roar was loud and clear.
Where they had stood just seconds before, a large, black motorcycle
rumbled to a stop. On it was a man dressed in black leathers, who's
helmet was the same dark shade, with the mask down. First facing one
way, then another, the dark figure seemed to be sniffing for
something, if the noise that could be heard over the engine was any
indication.
Feeling the urge to walk out and surrender to the man, Frodo was
surprised when Sam's hand clamped down hard on his wrist. Taking one
look into Sam's deep brown eyes, and Frodo stayed where he was. He
barely suppressed a sigh of relief as the black rider started away,
vanishing from sight quickly.
Once the strange person had gone, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam moved out of
the brush. "We must get away from here," said Sam. "That fellow
creeped me out." He shivered a little.
Pippin nodded. "Me, too." Frodo said nothing, only stared at the spot
that the black rider had sat.
"That sniffing was the worst part," Pippin continued, a shiver
running down his own form. "We need to get going."
This time Frodo nodded. "But not on this path. We'll run right into
him if he turns about. We'll have to cut cross country."
Both of the others stared at him. "Are you insane?" asked Pippin. "We
haven't been off this path is years."
A soft hand rested on Frodo's shoulder. He looked at the owner. "How
about we travel this way a bit more," said Sam. "Even if we don't
shift, we'll still hear the engine long before he shows back up. The
closer we get to the main road, the less chance we have of getting
lost."
Not liking the idea to stay on the path, but unable to argue with
Sam's logic, Frodo gave in. "All right. But we're going shifted. Our
ears are much better that way."
The other two agreed, and soon the horse, deer, and falcon were
traveling again. The bird flew along the path ahead of the two earth-
bound creatures. All three were listening for any noise, so it was
easy to hear another engine, coming from the same direction as the
first had. Pippin quickly took to a tree above the path, and Sam
followed Frodo, who waded into a thick thicket that surrounded
Pippin's tree, and both laid down.
All three could see the path, and all three held their breath as the
black motorcycle stopped once more. This time, the man got off.
Making sure the kick stand would keep the bike up, the man moved
towards the thicket, making the same sniffing noise as the other one
had. Frodo tensed, all his instincts telling him to be ready to flee.
All of a sudden, the man froze, then raced back to his bike. Kicking
the kick stand, he sped away, leaving behind three slightly confused
people. Then the breeze brought the sound of singing, and Frodo
recognized what it was. He rose, and moved out of the thicket. Still
off the path, he shifted, followed by Sam and Pippin.
"Who are they, Feb?" While Sam had visited Bag End before, he had
never stayed that long, and he had never heard people singing in the
woods before. Actually, neither had Pippin.
Tilting his head, Frodo listened. He smiled suddenly. "That is a
Speaker caravan. Tree Speakers, if I'm right. Sounds like their
tongue." He caught the others confused looks. "There aren't many
Speakers, but those who are around tend to gather together in family
caravans. Most will be Speakers to the same thing, but you'll get an
odd Talent or two in the bunch. I want to ask them if they know
what's going on."
The trio didn't have to wait long. Soon, a group of singing people
came into view. Tall and thin, they resembled the thing they Spoke
with. Many walked, while a few danced along. They moved quickly, and
all had passed but the last one. He started by, then paused. "Hello,
Frodo of Shire."
All three who stood in the shadows blinked, and Pippin and Sam looked
at Frodo. "Do you know him, Feb?" asked Sam. Frodo shook his head,
but stepped out onto the path as the man called back his caravan.
"Hello. We do not mean to bother you, but you are known to many of
these woods as the wise folk. I would asked a question of you, if I
may?" Frodo fell back into the speech patterns Bilbo had taught him
to use when dealing with the Speakers.
Eyes as deep as the ocean looked at him, and the man reached out to
brush his fingers against Frodo's forehead. Sam bristled and moved
forward, but stopped at a wave of Frodo's hand. The man stood still
for a few seconds, then blinked, his eyes blank. "My name is Gildor,
Frodo of Shire. You have been marked by a strong Talent, and those
who move in darkness of heart and darkness of cloth seek you. You
must avoid them at all cost, for the darkness they bear will spread
to all of world, just as it did during the Great War if they are able
to take you."
Frodo, Sam, and Pippin all shivered. Far too young to have been in
the Great War, they had learned of it in school, and the ruins of
what Middle Earth had once been still lingered everywhere.
"You must avoid all those who bear the Dark One's taint. Seek Fire,
for he shall aid you." Gildor blinked again, and his eyes lost their
blank look. "I apologize. I do not normally read without permission.
Did I offend you?"
Frodo shook his head. "No, Gildor of the Speakers. You have given me
what I need to know, and I am grateful. Is there anything we might to
repay you?"
Gildor bowed. "Nothing. Merely keep what I have seen from coming
true, that is all that I ask. I would suggest you not take this path
any further, for there are dark spots my people can not see though.
Good day, and good luck." As suddenly as the Speaker caravan had
appeared, they vanished, moving down the path at a deceptive pace.
Sam and Pippin shared a look at the weirdness of the encounter, but
Frodo looked thoughtful. "We can no longer take this path. We've got
to find another, or make a new one." He headed into the woods,
pausing to look at the others when they made no move. "Coming?"
Before either Sam or Pippin could answer, Frodo shimmered once more,
and a buck leaped over a fallen tree, moving deeper into the woods.
The other two quickly followed suit.
They traveled for about twenty or thirty minutes, pausing from time
to time so Pippin could ask the wind to guide them. Soon, however,
they came out on the edge of a field, and Frodo froze at the edge of
it, still in his deer form. Sam changed and walked over.
"Feb, you all right?" He touched Frodo's fur covered shoulder, and
felt worry, tension, and a little fear flow over him. "Feb?"
A shimmer, and Sam had the strange experience of empathing a change.
A very odd, and slightly off, sensation. He was soon looking into
Frodo's large blue eyes. "This is Farmer Maggot's field. When I was
younger, I was browsing around in his mushroom patch, and he set his
dogs on me." A slight shiver. "Those dogs were bigger than I was.
Scared me to death."
There was a snort from behind them, and Pippin walked up. "We don't
have time for this. If the dogs scare you that much, shift and chase
them off. Merry's waiting for us, and I don't like being in the
open." Pippin rolled his eyes and started across the field. Sam and
Frodo exchanged looks and scrambled to follow.
Frodo's resolution to not panic broke as soon as the dogs left their
cover. As if by magic, the three men were surrounded by three large,
*large* dogs. Frodo clutched Sam's hand, and the empath could feel
the FEAR run through him. "It's okay, Feb. They won't hurt us."
Looking at the large teeth, and hearing the deep growls, Frodo wasn't
so sure, but he felt himself relax, just a little. That little became
a little more when Farmer Maggot's voice was heard, call the three
beasts off.
Even as the dogs backed away, Maggot himself came into view. "Looky
here," he smiled, bright eyes going from one young man to another. "I
know you, young Mr. Pippin. Haven't seen you for a while now. Just
these odd folk that shouldn't be around."
Sam noticed that Maggot was barefoot, and where he stepped, tiny
shoots of green appeared. This, more than anything else, made him
feel safe around the older man. If one couldn't trust a Grower,
someone who the very earth blossomed for, who could one trust?
With a large grin, Pippin shook Maggot's hand. "Haven't seen you
since Mom moved us to town, Farmer. This is Samwise Gamgee." A hand
wave in Sam's direction. "And this is Frodo Baggins."
Maggot looked sharply at Frodo. "Had a fellow stop by just a while
ago looking for you, Mr. Baggins. Eerie fellow, all in black. Had a
strange lisp to his words. I'm guessing he's not from around here."
Not wanting to be rude, but still feeling the urgency that kept
building, as if someone had painted a target between his shoulders,
Frodo cut in. "I'm really sorry to be rude, Sir, but we need to get
to town quick. Do you have a phone we could call a cab with?"
Blinking a bit at the sudden interruption, Maggot paused. "I need to
go to town myself. How bouts I give you a ride?" He was the focus of
three pairs of eyes.
"Are you sure you can?" asked Sam, not wanting to put anyone out of
their way. When the farmer nodded, the friends began to hustle him
back to the house. There was a brief pause as Maggot grabbed the
stuff he was going to take, and Mrs. Maggot to make up something and
give it to Frodo, but they were soon off. Sam and Pippin were curious
as to what Frodo had been given, but the youngest of the group had
taken one look and sat back with a smile.
Quickly, but not as fast as they would have liked, Frodo, Sam, and
Pippin found themselves outside the Buckland. Maggot had told them to
be careful, then winked at Frodo before driving away. Frodo cracked
up laughing.
"What's so funny? And what did Mrs. Maggot give you?" Pippin asked as
they walked to the elevator. He was so eaten up by curiosity that he
was close to pouncing Frodo and looking at the basket himself.
Instead of answering, Frodo led them into the elevator, then hit the
button for the Crickhollow floor. As the elevator made it's way
towards the top floor, he showed them. "Guess they recognized the
name after all," he said. The basked was full of smoked and fresh
mushrooms.
There was a ping, and the elevator opened to a set of closed doors.
Frodo slid his key in, and they entered the penthouse of Buckland
apartments.
Almost instantly, Merry was in front of them. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!!"
Startled, Frodo jumped with a yelp. He glared at his friend as Sam
helped him up. "Don't DO that!" he gasped, taking deep breathes to
slow his heart down. "I've had a long day, and it's barely begun."
Taking one last deep breath, Frodo explained to Merry what had
happened since Pippin's phone call that morning.
"God," sighed Merry. "Doesn't sound like you've had a good morning,
either." His eyes darted around the room. "I had a rather nasty
vision. Lots of blood, lots of fighting, lots of death. And that ring
that Bilbo gave you in the middle of it all. I headed over this way,
and Pippin headed for the cabin. We thought it was our best bet on
catching you two."
Frodo nodded. "Right. Let me grab the ring, and we'll head for the
Prancing Pony." The dark-haired man vanished in the direction of his
room, then reappeared, a plain gold ring in his hand. Sliding it into
his pocket, he nodded at the others. "Got it. Let's go."
All four of them piled into the elevator, ready to get to the
Prancing Pony, and to find out from Gandalf what was going on.
It would be a while before they did either.
TBC
raced with a large, golden-brown buck. With a whicker, the stallion
took the lead, only to coughed at as the deer stopped. The Arabian
slowed, dancing lightly in place. No longer pounding through the
brush, he also heard the high-pitched scream.
From the sky dropped a streak of gray. It landed on a branch just
ahead of the two animals and chirped, bright black eyes blinking
rapidly. Once the horse and deer looked at it, it jumped and glided
to the ground. Touching down, the gray peregrine falcon shimmered, a
strange sensation on the eyes, and there stood Peregrin Took, who
fidgeted before the horse and deer.
Once the falcon had become human, the same shimmer wrapped around the
two animals, and they also became human. "What are you doing here,
Pippin?" asked Sam, unaware how much he sounded like Frodo had that
morning.
Shifting uneasily, Pippin looked at his friends. "Merry had a vision
not more than half an hour after I talked to you," he said, brown
eyes meeting Frodo's blue. "He's at the Buckland, waiting at
Crickhollow for us."
Both Sam and Frodo started. "That's were we're heading," murmured
Frodo, also looking around at the woods. "We were at Bag End, and
Gandalf called. Said we were to get the ring Bilbo left me, and meet
him at the Prancing Pony."
Pippin nodded. "Merry said the focus was the ring. It showed up in
everything. Fire, blood, and fighting, and the ring at the center of
it all. We need to get to Crickhollow quick, and then on to Gandalf."
Even as Pippin said that, there was a dull roar, one that all three
quickly identified as a motor. Frodo shivered as a feeling of unease
crept up his neck. "We should hide," he told the other two.
"But it might be someone who can give us a ride," protested Pippin.
Sam merely touched Frodo's hand.
"He's right, Pippin. We need to hide." All three men slid into the
surrounding brush. A few seconds later, the roar was loud and clear.
Where they had stood just seconds before, a large, black motorcycle
rumbled to a stop. On it was a man dressed in black leathers, who's
helmet was the same dark shade, with the mask down. First facing one
way, then another, the dark figure seemed to be sniffing for
something, if the noise that could be heard over the engine was any
indication.
Feeling the urge to walk out and surrender to the man, Frodo was
surprised when Sam's hand clamped down hard on his wrist. Taking one
look into Sam's deep brown eyes, and Frodo stayed where he was. He
barely suppressed a sigh of relief as the black rider started away,
vanishing from sight quickly.
Once the strange person had gone, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam moved out of
the brush. "We must get away from here," said Sam. "That fellow
creeped me out." He shivered a little.
Pippin nodded. "Me, too." Frodo said nothing, only stared at the spot
that the black rider had sat.
"That sniffing was the worst part," Pippin continued, a shiver
running down his own form. "We need to get going."
This time Frodo nodded. "But not on this path. We'll run right into
him if he turns about. We'll have to cut cross country."
Both of the others stared at him. "Are you insane?" asked Pippin. "We
haven't been off this path is years."
A soft hand rested on Frodo's shoulder. He looked at the owner. "How
about we travel this way a bit more," said Sam. "Even if we don't
shift, we'll still hear the engine long before he shows back up. The
closer we get to the main road, the less chance we have of getting
lost."
Not liking the idea to stay on the path, but unable to argue with
Sam's logic, Frodo gave in. "All right. But we're going shifted. Our
ears are much better that way."
The other two agreed, and soon the horse, deer, and falcon were
traveling again. The bird flew along the path ahead of the two earth-
bound creatures. All three were listening for any noise, so it was
easy to hear another engine, coming from the same direction as the
first had. Pippin quickly took to a tree above the path, and Sam
followed Frodo, who waded into a thick thicket that surrounded
Pippin's tree, and both laid down.
All three could see the path, and all three held their breath as the
black motorcycle stopped once more. This time, the man got off.
Making sure the kick stand would keep the bike up, the man moved
towards the thicket, making the same sniffing noise as the other one
had. Frodo tensed, all his instincts telling him to be ready to flee.
All of a sudden, the man froze, then raced back to his bike. Kicking
the kick stand, he sped away, leaving behind three slightly confused
people. Then the breeze brought the sound of singing, and Frodo
recognized what it was. He rose, and moved out of the thicket. Still
off the path, he shifted, followed by Sam and Pippin.
"Who are they, Feb?" While Sam had visited Bag End before, he had
never stayed that long, and he had never heard people singing in the
woods before. Actually, neither had Pippin.
Tilting his head, Frodo listened. He smiled suddenly. "That is a
Speaker caravan. Tree Speakers, if I'm right. Sounds like their
tongue." He caught the others confused looks. "There aren't many
Speakers, but those who are around tend to gather together in family
caravans. Most will be Speakers to the same thing, but you'll get an
odd Talent or two in the bunch. I want to ask them if they know
what's going on."
The trio didn't have to wait long. Soon, a group of singing people
came into view. Tall and thin, they resembled the thing they Spoke
with. Many walked, while a few danced along. They moved quickly, and
all had passed but the last one. He started by, then paused. "Hello,
Frodo of Shire."
All three who stood in the shadows blinked, and Pippin and Sam looked
at Frodo. "Do you know him, Feb?" asked Sam. Frodo shook his head,
but stepped out onto the path as the man called back his caravan.
"Hello. We do not mean to bother you, but you are known to many of
these woods as the wise folk. I would asked a question of you, if I
may?" Frodo fell back into the speech patterns Bilbo had taught him
to use when dealing with the Speakers.
Eyes as deep as the ocean looked at him, and the man reached out to
brush his fingers against Frodo's forehead. Sam bristled and moved
forward, but stopped at a wave of Frodo's hand. The man stood still
for a few seconds, then blinked, his eyes blank. "My name is Gildor,
Frodo of Shire. You have been marked by a strong Talent, and those
who move in darkness of heart and darkness of cloth seek you. You
must avoid them at all cost, for the darkness they bear will spread
to all of world, just as it did during the Great War if they are able
to take you."
Frodo, Sam, and Pippin all shivered. Far too young to have been in
the Great War, they had learned of it in school, and the ruins of
what Middle Earth had once been still lingered everywhere.
"You must avoid all those who bear the Dark One's taint. Seek Fire,
for he shall aid you." Gildor blinked again, and his eyes lost their
blank look. "I apologize. I do not normally read without permission.
Did I offend you?"
Frodo shook his head. "No, Gildor of the Speakers. You have given me
what I need to know, and I am grateful. Is there anything we might to
repay you?"
Gildor bowed. "Nothing. Merely keep what I have seen from coming
true, that is all that I ask. I would suggest you not take this path
any further, for there are dark spots my people can not see though.
Good day, and good luck." As suddenly as the Speaker caravan had
appeared, they vanished, moving down the path at a deceptive pace.
Sam and Pippin shared a look at the weirdness of the encounter, but
Frodo looked thoughtful. "We can no longer take this path. We've got
to find another, or make a new one." He headed into the woods,
pausing to look at the others when they made no move. "Coming?"
Before either Sam or Pippin could answer, Frodo shimmered once more,
and a buck leaped over a fallen tree, moving deeper into the woods.
The other two quickly followed suit.
They traveled for about twenty or thirty minutes, pausing from time
to time so Pippin could ask the wind to guide them. Soon, however,
they came out on the edge of a field, and Frodo froze at the edge of
it, still in his deer form. Sam changed and walked over.
"Feb, you all right?" He touched Frodo's fur covered shoulder, and
felt worry, tension, and a little fear flow over him. "Feb?"
A shimmer, and Sam had the strange experience of empathing a change.
A very odd, and slightly off, sensation. He was soon looking into
Frodo's large blue eyes. "This is Farmer Maggot's field. When I was
younger, I was browsing around in his mushroom patch, and he set his
dogs on me." A slight shiver. "Those dogs were bigger than I was.
Scared me to death."
There was a snort from behind them, and Pippin walked up. "We don't
have time for this. If the dogs scare you that much, shift and chase
them off. Merry's waiting for us, and I don't like being in the
open." Pippin rolled his eyes and started across the field. Sam and
Frodo exchanged looks and scrambled to follow.
Frodo's resolution to not panic broke as soon as the dogs left their
cover. As if by magic, the three men were surrounded by three large,
*large* dogs. Frodo clutched Sam's hand, and the empath could feel
the FEAR run through him. "It's okay, Feb. They won't hurt us."
Looking at the large teeth, and hearing the deep growls, Frodo wasn't
so sure, but he felt himself relax, just a little. That little became
a little more when Farmer Maggot's voice was heard, call the three
beasts off.
Even as the dogs backed away, Maggot himself came into view. "Looky
here," he smiled, bright eyes going from one young man to another. "I
know you, young Mr. Pippin. Haven't seen you for a while now. Just
these odd folk that shouldn't be around."
Sam noticed that Maggot was barefoot, and where he stepped, tiny
shoots of green appeared. This, more than anything else, made him
feel safe around the older man. If one couldn't trust a Grower,
someone who the very earth blossomed for, who could one trust?
With a large grin, Pippin shook Maggot's hand. "Haven't seen you
since Mom moved us to town, Farmer. This is Samwise Gamgee." A hand
wave in Sam's direction. "And this is Frodo Baggins."
Maggot looked sharply at Frodo. "Had a fellow stop by just a while
ago looking for you, Mr. Baggins. Eerie fellow, all in black. Had a
strange lisp to his words. I'm guessing he's not from around here."
Not wanting to be rude, but still feeling the urgency that kept
building, as if someone had painted a target between his shoulders,
Frodo cut in. "I'm really sorry to be rude, Sir, but we need to get
to town quick. Do you have a phone we could call a cab with?"
Blinking a bit at the sudden interruption, Maggot paused. "I need to
go to town myself. How bouts I give you a ride?" He was the focus of
three pairs of eyes.
"Are you sure you can?" asked Sam, not wanting to put anyone out of
their way. When the farmer nodded, the friends began to hustle him
back to the house. There was a brief pause as Maggot grabbed the
stuff he was going to take, and Mrs. Maggot to make up something and
give it to Frodo, but they were soon off. Sam and Pippin were curious
as to what Frodo had been given, but the youngest of the group had
taken one look and sat back with a smile.
Quickly, but not as fast as they would have liked, Frodo, Sam, and
Pippin found themselves outside the Buckland. Maggot had told them to
be careful, then winked at Frodo before driving away. Frodo cracked
up laughing.
"What's so funny? And what did Mrs. Maggot give you?" Pippin asked as
they walked to the elevator. He was so eaten up by curiosity that he
was close to pouncing Frodo and looking at the basket himself.
Instead of answering, Frodo led them into the elevator, then hit the
button for the Crickhollow floor. As the elevator made it's way
towards the top floor, he showed them. "Guess they recognized the
name after all," he said. The basked was full of smoked and fresh
mushrooms.
There was a ping, and the elevator opened to a set of closed doors.
Frodo slid his key in, and they entered the penthouse of Buckland
apartments.
Almost instantly, Merry was in front of them. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!!"
Startled, Frodo jumped with a yelp. He glared at his friend as Sam
helped him up. "Don't DO that!" he gasped, taking deep breathes to
slow his heart down. "I've had a long day, and it's barely begun."
Taking one last deep breath, Frodo explained to Merry what had
happened since Pippin's phone call that morning.
"God," sighed Merry. "Doesn't sound like you've had a good morning,
either." His eyes darted around the room. "I had a rather nasty
vision. Lots of blood, lots of fighting, lots of death. And that ring
that Bilbo gave you in the middle of it all. I headed over this way,
and Pippin headed for the cabin. We thought it was our best bet on
catching you two."
Frodo nodded. "Right. Let me grab the ring, and we'll head for the
Prancing Pony." The dark-haired man vanished in the direction of his
room, then reappeared, a plain gold ring in his hand. Sliding it into
his pocket, he nodded at the others. "Got it. Let's go."
All four of them piled into the elevator, ready to get to the
Prancing Pony, and to find out from Gandalf what was going on.
It would be a while before they did either.
TBC