A/N: Guess what? Third chapter. YARRR HOOOO!!!!
I've just started writing this chapter and the time is . . . 3:45 on a Saturday afternoon on February 16th 2002.
I wanted to see what the date was when I finish it so bear with me please :-)
I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, unlike some people (remember my sister's reaction?).
I would like to apologise for the waiting on the chapters but it's hard being in year 9, handling a stubborn goat called Cleo, and being in a musical called Annie (cough, gag, spew.)
For my friends: Nyree, Karina (Kari), Trudi, Ericka and lastly Sarah,
For nagging me to keep writing and not to let life get in the way of laughter.
Chapter 3: On A Quest Without The Fellowship
For two days now Frodo had ridden Pippin's little pony, Kingston, out of Rivendell's wondrous surroundings. He was thankful that Kingston step was light-footed because his shoulder still pained him. But it was a bearable ache. The wound had begun to bleed again, seeping slowly into the fabric, but no matter how much Frodo packed it with spare rages it still managed to show a red patch on his left side.
The air round him grew chilly and he wished he had brought his extra cloak and maybe another thick woollen blanket along with him for the long, long quest ahead.
'Now, now.' He thought, 'don't want to overload the poor beast, he has a long way to go and you don't want to exhaust him before the trip has begun!'
He watched as the sun set behind the horizon. As the red washed over his tired features it reminded him of a home he had left again and how much he wished he were back there in front of the fire with a hot strong cup of tea and of how much he missed his dear friends.
As the last rays disappeared, Frodo started to look around for a suitable camping ground, he was near a forest but he didn't dare go in for fear of leading dangerous animals to him with the smell of his own blood.
After a few more minutes of searching on foot he found a dead and hollow tree which was big enough for him and Kingston to shelter for the night.
After, when he pulled off what he needed for the night from his pony's back, he took the bridle and bit out of Kingston's mouth and hanged the gear on a branch that grew on the inside of the hollowed tree.
"I am sorry that I can not take off the burden on your back but if I need to get away quick enough I need a way to keep myself seated." Then he chuckled and patted Kingston's head. "I cannot ride as well as Pippin and have no idea how to control an unsaddled horse let along a pony."
Kingston snorted which sounded like he was saying: 'I understand, but thankyou anyway for taking the bit out of my mouth.'
Frodo layed his thick blanket on the ground but before he layed down himself he placed another one on the pony and fed him and himself some rationed lambas.
"Sleep well, my friend. For we have a long journey ahead of us little pony." He said with a yawn.
With that Frodo settled down and while he waited for sleep to come to gather him in it's blissful darkness he listened to the nights beautiful but sad music that came from and within the forest.
~*~
The fellowship, meanwhile, were stuck in a storm that had sneaked it's way onto them. Now they were soaked to the skin, cold, grumpy and not to mention . . .
"I'm hungry," Pippin said quietly as he huddled next to Sam and Merry, who were huddled under a small tree and trying to keep warm, while the storm raged around them.
"We are too, Peregrin," Merry snapped. "So stop complaining!"
"I remember the days when you weren't so snappy," Pippin mused as he brushed water from his forehead that dripped down from his drowned curls which were beyond saving because of the storm.
"I never was nor am I now snappy!" his cousin stated back.
"You never were snappy?" Pippin asked trying his older cousins patience.
"Will you two be quiet?!" Sam said as he shivered beneath his elvan cloak. "To answer the question yes, Merry, you were always snappy and in a foul mood when it was raining especially when your stuck in it. Remember that day when we got stuck in that ditch because of the pony we had borrowed from old Proudfoot?"
"Do not remind me for it was the cause of my disliking of ponies and water, even though every hobbit has a healthy respect for the water." Merry grumbled as he suppressed the memory.
"It was quite funny when he got stuck in the mud and when he thought nothing could get worse, it rained! Then we had to wait till it dried because his feet were to deep to dig out during the storm." Pippin said as he let the memory take him away from the cold and hunger.
All of the sudden all three, including Merry, burst out laughing.
After a while all was quiet, then Pippin said, in an almost wishful tone. "Wish it were like that again."
The rest of the fellowship, which and been listening quietly, grunted in agreement.
~*~
The sun rose from it's absences and greeted grey clouds for it was still raining in Middle-Earth.
Frodo awoke feeling stiff, sore and still in pain. He was lying on his stomach with his arms under his belly while his head rested on his cloak, beneath another thick blanket.
Yawning he sat up and while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes was greeted with a small nickering along with hot breath on the back of his neck.
"Good morning, Kingston," he replied sleepily, and he took a look outside which mad him groan inwardly. He didn't hate the rain, it was just he would be in it, so he wasn't too happy.
Kingston, on the other hand, looked quite content and didn't seem to mind that he would be trudging in the cold, wet mud in a few minutes.
But fifteen minutes later and after much slipping, sliding and near misses of greeting trees head-on, the two started to think that maybe just maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea to not wait the storm out.
While trotting through a small non-looking boggy valley Kingston's front right hoof slouched into a hidden hole and no matter how much he tried, he nor his rider could free it.
"Looks like we're stuck, Kingston, my friend." Frodo said patting Kingston's neck.
He walked to the saddle bags and pulled the thick blanket out again and threw it over Kingston's back. He then stood in front, under the blanket with Kingston's head on his right shoulder listening to the quiet breathing of the pony which was deep and rhythmic.
A few hours later, however, both started to feel the cold starting to take a toll on them, both were coughing and had runny noses that was hard for them to keep dry.
Suddenly a lighting bolt struck, which made Kingston rear in fright, while nocking Frodo face-first into the mud. Kingston's hoof was free but he didn't bolt, instead he stood still and he nuzzled his wet friend which resulted in pushing Frodo further into the mud. A few seconds later Frodo rose his head and wiped the mud out of his eyes.
"Seeming that you pushed me in, could you be ever so kind to pull me out?" he said calmly.
The pony nodded his head up and down also resulting in spraying Frodo with water and completely washing his face revealing a cut above his right eyebrow.
Kingston walked up as close as he could and lowered his reins to the mud- ridden hobbit. Frodo took them gratefully and mounted again.
Then Frodo's sharp ears picked up a sound.
A roaring sound.
A roaring watery sound.
He turned his head, his soaked curls flinging into his eyes. Swiping them clumsily away he stared into what he thought was his and Kingston's death.
"Noro lim, Kingston.*" Frodo cried in elfish surprising himself.
The ponies ears pricked and he lunged froward with such force he nearly unseated Frodo. He charged forward further into the valley and pounded the ground hard, leaving deep hoof-prints behind.
But within a few seconds the water started lapping at Kingston's hooves and it seemed that his speed was not going to be enough.
"Noro limer, Kingston, vell.*" Frodo screamed in terror. Kingston hesitated, but only a second then suddenly he veered to the left nearly unseating his rider again.
The black pony ran as hard as he could and, with all the strength he could muster, jumped up the bank of the riverbed.
Only the side was too steep and wet from the days downpour and Kingston slid back down leading deep tracks from where his hooves had been.
But he refused to give up and so, with a last burst of speed and strength born purely because of the riding Pippin put him through, leapt and tucked all four legs under him so as to not get tripped by any twigs.
He landed perfectly on all four feet but didn't accomplish keeping his rider on his back, for he sent Frodo backward and toward the river that now raged beneath them.
Frodo had actually lost his grip on the reins and when he fell back the only thing that he could grab was . . . you guessed it . . . Kingston's tail.
Kingston screamed in pain and beared his teeth. He was about to kick out in fright when he remembered who he had on his back.
Gasping for breath and shaking from curly head to furry toe Frodo called gently to the frighted and exhausted pony.
"Forward, Kingston my friend, forward." Slowly, but surly, Kingston steeped forward and within a few minutes both were safe and sound on the ground that assured that no raging river of death would come after them. Both watched the water with a sigh and thanked all the gods for sparing their lives.
"I hate the rain." Frodo grumbled as a second lighting bolt struck nearby starling both the pony and himself.
~*~
With the other's, however, they wished that the gods would save their lives. They had all fallen asleep and woken to the sound of growling.
It was Legolas who had first awoken and saw nothing but the yellow eyes of a she-wolf a few meters away. Slowly and quietly he pulled his knife from his waist and then with such speed, force and grace jumped over the wolf.
It was only then that he had realised his fatal mistake, for he hadn't (as he had hoped) cleared the wolf-pack, instead he'd landed right in the middle of the beasts.
A few seconds later he heard a cry of surprise. Quickly turning he saw Sam struggling with a male wolf. In an effort to give himself a better chance at surviving, Sam had ripped a thick stick from it very trunk and was whacking the male in the face.
This only made the pack more determined at having these trespassers for their meal.
By now all were awake and frighting with a wolf, the ponies had even joined in.
Bill was kicking out with his back feet while Brandy and Frost hit out with their front hooves. Legolas's horse, Arana, had decided she had had enough and let lose a fierce cry making all the wolves hesitate in their savagery.
Then Shadowfax joined in with Arana's cry, he reared and slammed down his hooves with such force that sparks jumped from where his hooves landed.
The wolves stoped at what they were doing and looked around them. The leader, sensing defeat and anger, let out a howl and with that they all fled into the forest.
All of the fellowship including the ponies and horses watched the wolves retreat into the surrounding forest, they sighed deeply and threw aside their crude weapons.
During the short fight the rain had stopped, and the first few rays of sunlight said that morning had broken.
A few minutes later they were packed and ready to go. But it was too quiet, until Pippin decided to sing.
"Morning has broken,
Like the first morning.
Black-bird has spoken,
Like the first bird.
Praise for the singing,
Praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing.
Fresh from the world."
His voice flowed through each and everyone of them and, when it had died, all felt a strange connection with the sunrise that greeting them, a sense of deep calmness.
Bill, Brandy, Frost, Shadowfax and Arana felt the fear leave them and settled down for they knew if they were too alert then their energy would be wasted on fear and none would be left for the long journey ahead.
~*~
From a cave not to far away a soaking pony and boy watched the rain lessen then the sunlight rays burst into lighting the caves inside leaving no shadow.
During the fierce storm both Frodo and Kingston had almost given up hope on finding a shelter that was enough to cover both of them, of course there were many places for a hobbit to fit quite comfortably in but Frodo had refused point blank to leave his fateful friend out to battle a cold night.
His shoulder was paining him again so he rubbed at it absently before looking at the damp creature beside him, who was looking outside quietly.
"I think I will walk beside you today, Kingston as you have done enough. I, for one, still have the burses from last night and do not wish to agitate them." He said this as he packed the now ruined blanket into the saddlebags.
When he had packed everything he leaned up against his black friend, head on the saddle and sighed. But not from boredom or pain but from sheer exhaustion. The last few days were starting to take a toll on Frodo's health again and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on for.
"It took almost over a year for me to complete this task before let it be, for goodness sake, less." He sighed deeply again, took Kingston's flapping reins then walked along the path.
Both had started to lose the will for the journey but something kept them going, Frodo nor Kingston knew what it was but if they'd took enough time to think about it, they may have agreed that it was each other that kept the other one going.
~*~
Through the forest swift creatures pounded through the water soaked ground. They had smelled the blood of an injured creature accompanied by a beast on four legs, both were small, tired, weak and starting to lose hope of their journey ahead.
This made the leader, Ashok, growl with pleasure. He liked nothing better than easy meat. It had been long since he and his pack had eaten a decent meal. A few weeks ago to be more precised.
He barked a signal and raced faster towards his prey.
~*~
Both pony and hobbit were walking with eyes staring at the path their gaze only looking up if a strange smell or sound was on the wind.
Half a day after the events at the river both heard a sound that chilled them to the very core of their souls. Howls of a pack on the hunt not far from where they were and getting closer at every breath.
It confused Frodo, he turned round a couple of times to try to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.
Then strangely the sounds disappeared leaving nothing for the ears of Frodo and Kingston to hear and it made the two of them very, very nervous.
Both eased their guard down a little but continued to be weary of the sudden silence. Frodo, who was a meter or so away walked up to Kingston.
"I think it best we leave . . . and at a run I might add." Upon reaching the pony, Frodo threw himself up into the saddle in a manner that would have been applauded by any ranger.
"Kingston we must ride and fast if we are to survive this stretch of the journey." Kingston snorted in response which was his version of an agreement. "I know you are tired of galloping and wish to be back home in you stable but I promise you, when this is over you'll never have to carry me again."
Suddenly Kingston's ears pricked up and he started to dance where he stood making it all the obvious for both of them to get out of there.
As Kingston's prancing started so did the howling. The wolves were crying for their blood! And by the sound of it nothing would keep them away.
"GO!!" Frodo screamed which made the pony surge froward and pound his way from the wolves that were telling them that they were their next meal.
A few seconds later, Kingston never knew what had hit him.
Both Frodo and Kingston felt a great force upon his rump, he and Frodo looked back to find a male wolf had jumped on the ponies back and was about to attempt to knock the rider off, letting the rest of the pack take care of him while he delt with the black-hoofed beast.
Kingston had just about enough of this, first he was taken out of his nice warm stable and forced to gallop hard and fast for seven days then after three weeks he was taken out again and since then had just berley escaped death more than any sensible pony should.
He kicked out fast and hard but the wolf stayed on, he did it a couple more times and on the sixth buck succeeded in throwing off the wolf.
"You could try bucking a little softer next time." His rider gasped in pain. "That's the fourth time you've almost lost me."
Kingston impatiently whinnied as if to say: 'You've seriously been keeping count?!'
Before either Kingston or Frodo could say another word a wolf came out of nowhere jumped and tore Frodo from the saddle.
The hobbits first reaction was to kick and scream but somehow his voice failed him. He and the wolf stopped tumbling and landed in a patch of dirt.
For a second that contained an eternity he and the wolf just stared into each others eyes. One murderous hatred and the other with fear mixed with confusion.
Then the wolf blinked and snorted uncertain of what to do next. It was clear that this wolf was inexperienced and this was it's first hunt.
Frodo took advantage.
He hadn't fought for his life and won by lying down and staring the enemy in the eye, instead he had gotten up and fought with all he could. And this time he had the fighting advantage.
Unfortunately he realise he was alone and that Kingston was no where in sight, looking around frantically with the wolf still on him he suddenly caught a glimpse of the pack of eight.
He was completely out numbered.
~*~
"How far do you think Frodo is?" Sam asked Aragorn as they walked with the ponies.
"I think he may be two or three days the most." Then he added at the look on Sam's face. "He'll survive, he's a strong hobbit. You need to have more faith in him Samwise, otherwise he'll lose his."
"I hope he doesn't lose his faith. It's just I'm worried sick . . . him running off and taking Pippin's best pony!"
"I don't mind," Pippin piped up. "I think my dear Kingston could do with an adventure or two, as long as he comes back that is."
~*~
If only Pippin knew what an adventure his pony was having.
The wolf had scared the pony out of his mind and he ran as hard and fast as he could, while galloping for his life a nagging feeling wouldn't disappear from the back of his mind. His back was lighter and it was much easier to run and that troubled him some.
His panicked mind kept telling him to go back for some reason, but for what Kingston didn't have a clue. Then it hit him.
Frodo was back there and he was in serious trouble.
Kingston reared, turned, and galloped towards the place that he least hoped to go back to.
As he galloped, a wind whistled through the trees and it kicked up dirt from the ground stinging Kingston's sensitive eyes, yet he breathed in hard and with that noticed the smell of blood tainted within the breeze. This made him more reluctant to greet his fate of fighting with his rider for what would soon be both of their lives.
But when he got back there, it was total chaos. It seemed the wolf pack that had attacked had gone into another territory and now SIXTEEN wolves were fighting over territory.
Frodo, however, layed on the ground apparently forgotten for the moment. He was bleeding from a leg and arm wound and were both seeping the red liquid rapidly from their openings. His sweat-soaked face had various scratches on it and they showed more clearly because of his pale and frightened features.
Kingston stopped and whinnied to his temporary master and only friend in this god forsaken land. Frodo looked up and motioned for him to go away.
But the little black pony was about to prove that he wasn't going to travel a long way from home and lose his rider to a mangy pack of wolves.
He stood his ground, took a beep breath, and whinnied a challenge to the beasts. They stopped at their quarrelling and looked at him. He screamed his challenge again, hoping to get them away from his friend so he could escape to safer ground of maybe up a tree.
Kingston was hoping to get a head start but it quickly and terribly turned against him.
They all leapt at once their jaws dripping and drooling saliva that was blood red.
Kingston never had a chance.
Until Frodo stepped in that is.
He picked up stones and threw them at the wolves, hitting them with accuracy between the eyes and he didn't hold back on force either. He threw as if there was no tomorrow and the wolves didn't seem to interested to see what else he had in store for them. The pack that had first chased them figured that this was too much for a meal of one small human (no they had never met hobbits before) and fled back to their own territory. The second, however, hadn't been chasing meals for over a week and so were still full of energy.
"KINGSTON!" Frodo yelled as a huge alpha male jumped and tared into Kingston's left hoof. The pony screamed in terror and pain. He reared and kicked out. His other hoof caught the wolf on the side of the head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The wolves stopped and backed away a little. They had looks of disbelief on their faces. How could two such tiny creatures cause such pain? All looked at one another and disappeared leaving the wolf leader alone.
They would come back for him later . . . when the two creatures had gone.
Frodo hobbled over to his pony and flung his arms around the sweaty neck of his savour and friend.
"Your a brave, brave pony Kingston," he murmured to the animal. "And I am glad you are my friend."
The blood covered and exhausted pony sighed deeply in response.
Two days later both were walking the trail side by side only because Kingston's foot couldn't take the weight of both hobbit and luggage. And instead of getting rid of their precious cargo Frodo decided to walk beside his pony and take his time.
Day turned to night and with eating little and drinking hardly any water both pony and hobbit felt terrible.
Frodo looked at his wound again and was startled to see deep red blood instead of it being bright. It worried him that something was going to happen and he was powerless to stop it.
Suddenly he felt light-headed, all shaky and felt as if he couldn't go on anymore.
He sighed in pain and put his hand to his shoulder, but only for a few seconds.
Frodo layed down on the cold and wet ground, not caring anymore if he died where he was or who would find him.
"Just don't let it be Sam," he whispered aloud. "Anyone but him . . . not like this anyway."
Kingston noticed how cold the boy was and put his nose against his neck and breathed hot air on it but the only response he got was Frodo pushing him away.
"Kingston, do you mind? I'm busy sitting here dying in the cold."
But the black pony refused to let him be. Instead of being discouraged he layed down next to the shivering hobbit and leaned as best as he could near him enough to keep him warm.
Frodo smiled but moaned in pain again, he rubbed his shoulder hoping to clear away the pain that was clouding his senses.
The clouds cleared letting the moon and her daughters the stars shine down on the path as if trying to show the way home for them.
He looked up at the black sky and saw a single star that stood out vividly in the lights that surrounded it and remembered something that Aragorn had murmured . . . a simple man poem.
"Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
Receive the wish,
That I have wished tonight."
He leaned into and against the warm body of Kingston's coat then made the wish that both pony and hobbit wanted.
"I want to go home."
TBC . . .
~*~
That Chapter sucked didn't it?
By the way I have just finished this chapter and the time is 9:08 on a Tuesday night in April 9th 2002 :-)
A/N: Mmmm is Frodo having second thoughts? Well, you just have to wait until the next chapter to find out (I'm sounding like JK Rowling ain't I?)
Did you like the Cat Steven song that I slipped in? It's called "Morning has broken," and it's one of my fave's
This was what Frodo cried in the valley when the flood nearly got them.
* Run fast, Kingston."
* Run faster, Kingston, dear."
Did you know the name Arana is actually an aboriginal word meaning Moon? I though it was a cool name and it kinda sounded a little elfish.
A Few Questions
Q1. Between the two (I'm only asking) who do YOU think should die: Kingston or Frodo?
Q2. Who do you like out of the ponies? Frost, Brandy or Kingston?
Q3. If Frodo & Kingston do LIVE should Pippin give Kingston to him?
Q4. Do you like the ponies and horse that I've put in the story, do you want any character development with one? (I'll be glad to write a separate story)
Q5. Do you think I should change the title of the story?
My Birthday was on the second of April and all I got to do was go to Bankstown! Then one of my most hated relativities decided to pop her cogs so basically it was a pretty crappy birthday. Problem is most of them are crappy for me every year.
Well, at the Royal Easter Show I got 4th place in the Dairy Goats Parades, a Highly Commended in another Parades and 3rd for going in the place of another bloke who was busy and I'm a FINALIST for JUDGING I actually lost it and had a panic attack afterwards. BUT would you believe it I FORGOT MY WRITING BOOK so I didn't get anything done for the 4th chapter. Sorry!
**!!!PLEASE READ!!!**
Do any of you guys want to see what I look like? Well go to this web sight!
http://www.schools.nsw.edu.au/events/eastershow/april4.php
Or go too
http://www.schools.nsw.edu.au/index.php
Now I'm the person with the White Goat with the caption: Easter Show Diary: Final Day. And you should find me.
Tell me what you guys think too.
P.S. The goats name is Chrisma. She's not my show animal though, Cleo is.
I've just started writing this chapter and the time is . . . 3:45 on a Saturday afternoon on February 16th 2002.
I wanted to see what the date was when I finish it so bear with me please :-)
I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, unlike some people (remember my sister's reaction?).
I would like to apologise for the waiting on the chapters but it's hard being in year 9, handling a stubborn goat called Cleo, and being in a musical called Annie (cough, gag, spew.)
For my friends: Nyree, Karina (Kari), Trudi, Ericka and lastly Sarah,
For nagging me to keep writing and not to let life get in the way of laughter.
Chapter 3: On A Quest Without The Fellowship
For two days now Frodo had ridden Pippin's little pony, Kingston, out of Rivendell's wondrous surroundings. He was thankful that Kingston step was light-footed because his shoulder still pained him. But it was a bearable ache. The wound had begun to bleed again, seeping slowly into the fabric, but no matter how much Frodo packed it with spare rages it still managed to show a red patch on his left side.
The air round him grew chilly and he wished he had brought his extra cloak and maybe another thick woollen blanket along with him for the long, long quest ahead.
'Now, now.' He thought, 'don't want to overload the poor beast, he has a long way to go and you don't want to exhaust him before the trip has begun!'
He watched as the sun set behind the horizon. As the red washed over his tired features it reminded him of a home he had left again and how much he wished he were back there in front of the fire with a hot strong cup of tea and of how much he missed his dear friends.
As the last rays disappeared, Frodo started to look around for a suitable camping ground, he was near a forest but he didn't dare go in for fear of leading dangerous animals to him with the smell of his own blood.
After a few more minutes of searching on foot he found a dead and hollow tree which was big enough for him and Kingston to shelter for the night.
After, when he pulled off what he needed for the night from his pony's back, he took the bridle and bit out of Kingston's mouth and hanged the gear on a branch that grew on the inside of the hollowed tree.
"I am sorry that I can not take off the burden on your back but if I need to get away quick enough I need a way to keep myself seated." Then he chuckled and patted Kingston's head. "I cannot ride as well as Pippin and have no idea how to control an unsaddled horse let along a pony."
Kingston snorted which sounded like he was saying: 'I understand, but thankyou anyway for taking the bit out of my mouth.'
Frodo layed his thick blanket on the ground but before he layed down himself he placed another one on the pony and fed him and himself some rationed lambas.
"Sleep well, my friend. For we have a long journey ahead of us little pony." He said with a yawn.
With that Frodo settled down and while he waited for sleep to come to gather him in it's blissful darkness he listened to the nights beautiful but sad music that came from and within the forest.
~*~
The fellowship, meanwhile, were stuck in a storm that had sneaked it's way onto them. Now they were soaked to the skin, cold, grumpy and not to mention . . .
"I'm hungry," Pippin said quietly as he huddled next to Sam and Merry, who were huddled under a small tree and trying to keep warm, while the storm raged around them.
"We are too, Peregrin," Merry snapped. "So stop complaining!"
"I remember the days when you weren't so snappy," Pippin mused as he brushed water from his forehead that dripped down from his drowned curls which were beyond saving because of the storm.
"I never was nor am I now snappy!" his cousin stated back.
"You never were snappy?" Pippin asked trying his older cousins patience.
"Will you two be quiet?!" Sam said as he shivered beneath his elvan cloak. "To answer the question yes, Merry, you were always snappy and in a foul mood when it was raining especially when your stuck in it. Remember that day when we got stuck in that ditch because of the pony we had borrowed from old Proudfoot?"
"Do not remind me for it was the cause of my disliking of ponies and water, even though every hobbit has a healthy respect for the water." Merry grumbled as he suppressed the memory.
"It was quite funny when he got stuck in the mud and when he thought nothing could get worse, it rained! Then we had to wait till it dried because his feet were to deep to dig out during the storm." Pippin said as he let the memory take him away from the cold and hunger.
All of the sudden all three, including Merry, burst out laughing.
After a while all was quiet, then Pippin said, in an almost wishful tone. "Wish it were like that again."
The rest of the fellowship, which and been listening quietly, grunted in agreement.
~*~
The sun rose from it's absences and greeted grey clouds for it was still raining in Middle-Earth.
Frodo awoke feeling stiff, sore and still in pain. He was lying on his stomach with his arms under his belly while his head rested on his cloak, beneath another thick blanket.
Yawning he sat up and while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes was greeted with a small nickering along with hot breath on the back of his neck.
"Good morning, Kingston," he replied sleepily, and he took a look outside which mad him groan inwardly. He didn't hate the rain, it was just he would be in it, so he wasn't too happy.
Kingston, on the other hand, looked quite content and didn't seem to mind that he would be trudging in the cold, wet mud in a few minutes.
But fifteen minutes later and after much slipping, sliding and near misses of greeting trees head-on, the two started to think that maybe just maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea to not wait the storm out.
While trotting through a small non-looking boggy valley Kingston's front right hoof slouched into a hidden hole and no matter how much he tried, he nor his rider could free it.
"Looks like we're stuck, Kingston, my friend." Frodo said patting Kingston's neck.
He walked to the saddle bags and pulled the thick blanket out again and threw it over Kingston's back. He then stood in front, under the blanket with Kingston's head on his right shoulder listening to the quiet breathing of the pony which was deep and rhythmic.
A few hours later, however, both started to feel the cold starting to take a toll on them, both were coughing and had runny noses that was hard for them to keep dry.
Suddenly a lighting bolt struck, which made Kingston rear in fright, while nocking Frodo face-first into the mud. Kingston's hoof was free but he didn't bolt, instead he stood still and he nuzzled his wet friend which resulted in pushing Frodo further into the mud. A few seconds later Frodo rose his head and wiped the mud out of his eyes.
"Seeming that you pushed me in, could you be ever so kind to pull me out?" he said calmly.
The pony nodded his head up and down also resulting in spraying Frodo with water and completely washing his face revealing a cut above his right eyebrow.
Kingston walked up as close as he could and lowered his reins to the mud- ridden hobbit. Frodo took them gratefully and mounted again.
Then Frodo's sharp ears picked up a sound.
A roaring sound.
A roaring watery sound.
He turned his head, his soaked curls flinging into his eyes. Swiping them clumsily away he stared into what he thought was his and Kingston's death.
"Noro lim, Kingston.*" Frodo cried in elfish surprising himself.
The ponies ears pricked and he lunged froward with such force he nearly unseated Frodo. He charged forward further into the valley and pounded the ground hard, leaving deep hoof-prints behind.
But within a few seconds the water started lapping at Kingston's hooves and it seemed that his speed was not going to be enough.
"Noro limer, Kingston, vell.*" Frodo screamed in terror. Kingston hesitated, but only a second then suddenly he veered to the left nearly unseating his rider again.
The black pony ran as hard as he could and, with all the strength he could muster, jumped up the bank of the riverbed.
Only the side was too steep and wet from the days downpour and Kingston slid back down leading deep tracks from where his hooves had been.
But he refused to give up and so, with a last burst of speed and strength born purely because of the riding Pippin put him through, leapt and tucked all four legs under him so as to not get tripped by any twigs.
He landed perfectly on all four feet but didn't accomplish keeping his rider on his back, for he sent Frodo backward and toward the river that now raged beneath them.
Frodo had actually lost his grip on the reins and when he fell back the only thing that he could grab was . . . you guessed it . . . Kingston's tail.
Kingston screamed in pain and beared his teeth. He was about to kick out in fright when he remembered who he had on his back.
Gasping for breath and shaking from curly head to furry toe Frodo called gently to the frighted and exhausted pony.
"Forward, Kingston my friend, forward." Slowly, but surly, Kingston steeped forward and within a few minutes both were safe and sound on the ground that assured that no raging river of death would come after them. Both watched the water with a sigh and thanked all the gods for sparing their lives.
"I hate the rain." Frodo grumbled as a second lighting bolt struck nearby starling both the pony and himself.
~*~
With the other's, however, they wished that the gods would save their lives. They had all fallen asleep and woken to the sound of growling.
It was Legolas who had first awoken and saw nothing but the yellow eyes of a she-wolf a few meters away. Slowly and quietly he pulled his knife from his waist and then with such speed, force and grace jumped over the wolf.
It was only then that he had realised his fatal mistake, for he hadn't (as he had hoped) cleared the wolf-pack, instead he'd landed right in the middle of the beasts.
A few seconds later he heard a cry of surprise. Quickly turning he saw Sam struggling with a male wolf. In an effort to give himself a better chance at surviving, Sam had ripped a thick stick from it very trunk and was whacking the male in the face.
This only made the pack more determined at having these trespassers for their meal.
By now all were awake and frighting with a wolf, the ponies had even joined in.
Bill was kicking out with his back feet while Brandy and Frost hit out with their front hooves. Legolas's horse, Arana, had decided she had had enough and let lose a fierce cry making all the wolves hesitate in their savagery.
Then Shadowfax joined in with Arana's cry, he reared and slammed down his hooves with such force that sparks jumped from where his hooves landed.
The wolves stoped at what they were doing and looked around them. The leader, sensing defeat and anger, let out a howl and with that they all fled into the forest.
All of the fellowship including the ponies and horses watched the wolves retreat into the surrounding forest, they sighed deeply and threw aside their crude weapons.
During the short fight the rain had stopped, and the first few rays of sunlight said that morning had broken.
A few minutes later they were packed and ready to go. But it was too quiet, until Pippin decided to sing.
"Morning has broken,
Like the first morning.
Black-bird has spoken,
Like the first bird.
Praise for the singing,
Praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing.
Fresh from the world."
His voice flowed through each and everyone of them and, when it had died, all felt a strange connection with the sunrise that greeting them, a sense of deep calmness.
Bill, Brandy, Frost, Shadowfax and Arana felt the fear leave them and settled down for they knew if they were too alert then their energy would be wasted on fear and none would be left for the long journey ahead.
~*~
From a cave not to far away a soaking pony and boy watched the rain lessen then the sunlight rays burst into lighting the caves inside leaving no shadow.
During the fierce storm both Frodo and Kingston had almost given up hope on finding a shelter that was enough to cover both of them, of course there were many places for a hobbit to fit quite comfortably in but Frodo had refused point blank to leave his fateful friend out to battle a cold night.
His shoulder was paining him again so he rubbed at it absently before looking at the damp creature beside him, who was looking outside quietly.
"I think I will walk beside you today, Kingston as you have done enough. I, for one, still have the burses from last night and do not wish to agitate them." He said this as he packed the now ruined blanket into the saddlebags.
When he had packed everything he leaned up against his black friend, head on the saddle and sighed. But not from boredom or pain but from sheer exhaustion. The last few days were starting to take a toll on Frodo's health again and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on for.
"It took almost over a year for me to complete this task before let it be, for goodness sake, less." He sighed deeply again, took Kingston's flapping reins then walked along the path.
Both had started to lose the will for the journey but something kept them going, Frodo nor Kingston knew what it was but if they'd took enough time to think about it, they may have agreed that it was each other that kept the other one going.
~*~
Through the forest swift creatures pounded through the water soaked ground. They had smelled the blood of an injured creature accompanied by a beast on four legs, both were small, tired, weak and starting to lose hope of their journey ahead.
This made the leader, Ashok, growl with pleasure. He liked nothing better than easy meat. It had been long since he and his pack had eaten a decent meal. A few weeks ago to be more precised.
He barked a signal and raced faster towards his prey.
~*~
Both pony and hobbit were walking with eyes staring at the path their gaze only looking up if a strange smell or sound was on the wind.
Half a day after the events at the river both heard a sound that chilled them to the very core of their souls. Howls of a pack on the hunt not far from where they were and getting closer at every breath.
It confused Frodo, he turned round a couple of times to try to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.
Then strangely the sounds disappeared leaving nothing for the ears of Frodo and Kingston to hear and it made the two of them very, very nervous.
Both eased their guard down a little but continued to be weary of the sudden silence. Frodo, who was a meter or so away walked up to Kingston.
"I think it best we leave . . . and at a run I might add." Upon reaching the pony, Frodo threw himself up into the saddle in a manner that would have been applauded by any ranger.
"Kingston we must ride and fast if we are to survive this stretch of the journey." Kingston snorted in response which was his version of an agreement. "I know you are tired of galloping and wish to be back home in you stable but I promise you, when this is over you'll never have to carry me again."
Suddenly Kingston's ears pricked up and he started to dance where he stood making it all the obvious for both of them to get out of there.
As Kingston's prancing started so did the howling. The wolves were crying for their blood! And by the sound of it nothing would keep them away.
"GO!!" Frodo screamed which made the pony surge froward and pound his way from the wolves that were telling them that they were their next meal.
A few seconds later, Kingston never knew what had hit him.
Both Frodo and Kingston felt a great force upon his rump, he and Frodo looked back to find a male wolf had jumped on the ponies back and was about to attempt to knock the rider off, letting the rest of the pack take care of him while he delt with the black-hoofed beast.
Kingston had just about enough of this, first he was taken out of his nice warm stable and forced to gallop hard and fast for seven days then after three weeks he was taken out again and since then had just berley escaped death more than any sensible pony should.
He kicked out fast and hard but the wolf stayed on, he did it a couple more times and on the sixth buck succeeded in throwing off the wolf.
"You could try bucking a little softer next time." His rider gasped in pain. "That's the fourth time you've almost lost me."
Kingston impatiently whinnied as if to say: 'You've seriously been keeping count?!'
Before either Kingston or Frodo could say another word a wolf came out of nowhere jumped and tore Frodo from the saddle.
The hobbits first reaction was to kick and scream but somehow his voice failed him. He and the wolf stopped tumbling and landed in a patch of dirt.
For a second that contained an eternity he and the wolf just stared into each others eyes. One murderous hatred and the other with fear mixed with confusion.
Then the wolf blinked and snorted uncertain of what to do next. It was clear that this wolf was inexperienced and this was it's first hunt.
Frodo took advantage.
He hadn't fought for his life and won by lying down and staring the enemy in the eye, instead he had gotten up and fought with all he could. And this time he had the fighting advantage.
Unfortunately he realise he was alone and that Kingston was no where in sight, looking around frantically with the wolf still on him he suddenly caught a glimpse of the pack of eight.
He was completely out numbered.
~*~
"How far do you think Frodo is?" Sam asked Aragorn as they walked with the ponies.
"I think he may be two or three days the most." Then he added at the look on Sam's face. "He'll survive, he's a strong hobbit. You need to have more faith in him Samwise, otherwise he'll lose his."
"I hope he doesn't lose his faith. It's just I'm worried sick . . . him running off and taking Pippin's best pony!"
"I don't mind," Pippin piped up. "I think my dear Kingston could do with an adventure or two, as long as he comes back that is."
~*~
If only Pippin knew what an adventure his pony was having.
The wolf had scared the pony out of his mind and he ran as hard and fast as he could, while galloping for his life a nagging feeling wouldn't disappear from the back of his mind. His back was lighter and it was much easier to run and that troubled him some.
His panicked mind kept telling him to go back for some reason, but for what Kingston didn't have a clue. Then it hit him.
Frodo was back there and he was in serious trouble.
Kingston reared, turned, and galloped towards the place that he least hoped to go back to.
As he galloped, a wind whistled through the trees and it kicked up dirt from the ground stinging Kingston's sensitive eyes, yet he breathed in hard and with that noticed the smell of blood tainted within the breeze. This made him more reluctant to greet his fate of fighting with his rider for what would soon be both of their lives.
But when he got back there, it was total chaos. It seemed the wolf pack that had attacked had gone into another territory and now SIXTEEN wolves were fighting over territory.
Frodo, however, layed on the ground apparently forgotten for the moment. He was bleeding from a leg and arm wound and were both seeping the red liquid rapidly from their openings. His sweat-soaked face had various scratches on it and they showed more clearly because of his pale and frightened features.
Kingston stopped and whinnied to his temporary master and only friend in this god forsaken land. Frodo looked up and motioned for him to go away.
But the little black pony was about to prove that he wasn't going to travel a long way from home and lose his rider to a mangy pack of wolves.
He stood his ground, took a beep breath, and whinnied a challenge to the beasts. They stopped at their quarrelling and looked at him. He screamed his challenge again, hoping to get them away from his friend so he could escape to safer ground of maybe up a tree.
Kingston was hoping to get a head start but it quickly and terribly turned against him.
They all leapt at once their jaws dripping and drooling saliva that was blood red.
Kingston never had a chance.
Until Frodo stepped in that is.
He picked up stones and threw them at the wolves, hitting them with accuracy between the eyes and he didn't hold back on force either. He threw as if there was no tomorrow and the wolves didn't seem to interested to see what else he had in store for them. The pack that had first chased them figured that this was too much for a meal of one small human (no they had never met hobbits before) and fled back to their own territory. The second, however, hadn't been chasing meals for over a week and so were still full of energy.
"KINGSTON!" Frodo yelled as a huge alpha male jumped and tared into Kingston's left hoof. The pony screamed in terror and pain. He reared and kicked out. His other hoof caught the wolf on the side of the head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The wolves stopped and backed away a little. They had looks of disbelief on their faces. How could two such tiny creatures cause such pain? All looked at one another and disappeared leaving the wolf leader alone.
They would come back for him later . . . when the two creatures had gone.
Frodo hobbled over to his pony and flung his arms around the sweaty neck of his savour and friend.
"Your a brave, brave pony Kingston," he murmured to the animal. "And I am glad you are my friend."
The blood covered and exhausted pony sighed deeply in response.
Two days later both were walking the trail side by side only because Kingston's foot couldn't take the weight of both hobbit and luggage. And instead of getting rid of their precious cargo Frodo decided to walk beside his pony and take his time.
Day turned to night and with eating little and drinking hardly any water both pony and hobbit felt terrible.
Frodo looked at his wound again and was startled to see deep red blood instead of it being bright. It worried him that something was going to happen and he was powerless to stop it.
Suddenly he felt light-headed, all shaky and felt as if he couldn't go on anymore.
He sighed in pain and put his hand to his shoulder, but only for a few seconds.
Frodo layed down on the cold and wet ground, not caring anymore if he died where he was or who would find him.
"Just don't let it be Sam," he whispered aloud. "Anyone but him . . . not like this anyway."
Kingston noticed how cold the boy was and put his nose against his neck and breathed hot air on it but the only response he got was Frodo pushing him away.
"Kingston, do you mind? I'm busy sitting here dying in the cold."
But the black pony refused to let him be. Instead of being discouraged he layed down next to the shivering hobbit and leaned as best as he could near him enough to keep him warm.
Frodo smiled but moaned in pain again, he rubbed his shoulder hoping to clear away the pain that was clouding his senses.
The clouds cleared letting the moon and her daughters the stars shine down on the path as if trying to show the way home for them.
He looked up at the black sky and saw a single star that stood out vividly in the lights that surrounded it and remembered something that Aragorn had murmured . . . a simple man poem.
"Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
Receive the wish,
That I have wished tonight."
He leaned into and against the warm body of Kingston's coat then made the wish that both pony and hobbit wanted.
"I want to go home."
TBC . . .
~*~
That Chapter sucked didn't it?
By the way I have just finished this chapter and the time is 9:08 on a Tuesday night in April 9th 2002 :-)
A/N: Mmmm is Frodo having second thoughts? Well, you just have to wait until the next chapter to find out (I'm sounding like JK Rowling ain't I?)
Did you like the Cat Steven song that I slipped in? It's called "Morning has broken," and it's one of my fave's
This was what Frodo cried in the valley when the flood nearly got them.
* Run fast, Kingston."
* Run faster, Kingston, dear."
Did you know the name Arana is actually an aboriginal word meaning Moon? I though it was a cool name and it kinda sounded a little elfish.
A Few Questions
Q1. Between the two (I'm only asking) who do YOU think should die: Kingston or Frodo?
Q2. Who do you like out of the ponies? Frost, Brandy or Kingston?
Q3. If Frodo & Kingston do LIVE should Pippin give Kingston to him?
Q4. Do you like the ponies and horse that I've put in the story, do you want any character development with one? (I'll be glad to write a separate story)
Q5. Do you think I should change the title of the story?
My Birthday was on the second of April and all I got to do was go to Bankstown! Then one of my most hated relativities decided to pop her cogs so basically it was a pretty crappy birthday. Problem is most of them are crappy for me every year.
Well, at the Royal Easter Show I got 4th place in the Dairy Goats Parades, a Highly Commended in another Parades and 3rd for going in the place of another bloke who was busy and I'm a FINALIST for JUDGING I actually lost it and had a panic attack afterwards. BUT would you believe it I FORGOT MY WRITING BOOK so I didn't get anything done for the 4th chapter. Sorry!
**!!!PLEASE READ!!!**
Do any of you guys want to see what I look like? Well go to this web sight!
http://www.schools.nsw.edu.au/events/eastershow/april4.php
Or go too
http://www.schools.nsw.edu.au/index.php
Now I'm the person with the White Goat with the caption: Easter Show Diary: Final Day. And you should find me.
Tell me what you guys think too.
P.S. The goats name is Chrisma. She's not my show animal though, Cleo is.