Chapter Five
***(some lines taken from the movie.....) ***btw I own none of the characters (aw, shucks!) save for Mikhaella! :) Just stating the obvious...:)
The importance of their quest struck a heroic chord in Mikhaella---one that had lain dormant for so long but had been awakened before by the same person who did just that on that fateful day the messengers came to Rivendell, Arwen. But as they went on in their excruciatingly hard pace (Arwen pushed them on untiringly, stopping very seldomly only if they direly needed to), covering miles faster than the scouts of Elrond, Mikhaella, sore and tired from their exertions, began to think most unchivalrous thoughts about this Ringbearer they were risking life and limb to find.
But by dusk they'd reached their destination, and had left Rivendell far behind. Mikhaella drew Telumendil to a stop, both horse and rider appearing thoroughly exhausted. And indeed, they were. "If we go on at this pace, Arwen, we'd be of not much help to the Ringbearer at all." Mikhaella sighed and looked up at the sky, with the full moon rising slowly above the tops of the trees. "I propose we stop and rest."
Arwen seemed to consider her request, bu as she opened her mouth to speak, she suddenly stiffened and cocked her head the side. "Lasto," she whispered: Listen.
Asfaloth neighed a warning, and Telumendil stamped her hooves skittishly. Mikhaella strained her ears to hear, and sure enough, her keen elven ears detected a slight scuffling sound in the woods beside them.
Crack.
There. Someone was trudging through the thicket with all the stealth of a wild boar. Surely it could not be one of the elven scouts, for no elf produced such noise that others could hear their approach from far off.
Quietly, she dismounted and tied her horse to the tree, keeping off the road. Arwen followed her example and the two elven princesses turned toward the direction of the sound, looking for the source. Arwen had her daggers, and she tossed one to Mikhaella for her to arm herself in case it was a hostile creature.
They had not far to look. Before long their silent footsteps led them to a most unusual creature who they found on his hands and knees on the grass, looking through the foliage with a distressed look on his face. He was short of stature, but he was not one of the Dwarf-folk, for he did not have the long beard and stout stature. He had strange hairy feet no dwarf possessed, and his ears were as delicately pointed as those of the Elven- folk. What manner of creature was this?
"A hobbit," Mikhaella whispered in amazement. She'd heard of them, but had never actually laid eyes on one until now. What was a hobbit doing so far from Bree and the Shire, their homeland? she wondered.
The hobbit, who had not yet been alerted to the presence of the two, kept his gaze fixed on the ground. He was shaking his head sorrowfully to himself and muttering, "Kingsfoil, kingsfoil....have to find that kingsfoil, oh, where is it when you need it?"
Silently, with the stealthiness and grace of a deer, Mikhaella strode forward, plucked a nearby specimen which she'd easily spotted with her superior powers of sight, and touched his shoulder with it. "Athelas," she murmured the Elvish name of the medicinal plant. At the sound of her voice, however, the hobbit jumped a foot high into the air.
"Oh, my lordie," he gasped, staring at them with eyes as wide as saucers,"You're...you're...you're Elves!!" he was going to say something more but it was lost as he seemed to strangle a bit in his amazement and awe. He was utterly stumped, and Mikhaella felt a twinge of compassion for the poor thing. She had an inkling of how utterly unusual and unearthly she and Arwen must look to the exhausted hobbit. To him they seemed to radiate a certain glow and aura...like ethereal nymphs of the legends of old, especially with their pointed ears, delicate features and Elven grace. The fact that they were ELVES made all the difference to the hobbit, who was no one else but the inexpendable Samwise Gamgee.
"I believe you were looking for this," she said, extending the plant to him, her face and voice comforting and not in the least threatening. She peered closer at him. There were circles under the hobbit's eyes, and he appeared drawn and pale. The hobbit looked very tired and strained almost to the point of breaking. Who knew what horrors he'd been through...
"Thank you..." he stammered, taking the offered herbs,"My lady..."
"You choose a strange time to go herb-picking, good sir," Arwen said, coming forward with a reassuring smile,"Many perils await you in these parts."
The hobbit's face grew taut with remembered anxiety,"You mean those Black Riders? Y-yes...we know...we've run into them already."
Arwen and Mikhaella exchanged glances. "How many were they?" Arwen quickly asked. Mikhaella put in: "We--?"
"F..five..."stammered the hobbit, "And we...five of us as well. Me, Pippin, Merry, Frodo and Strider. We mean no harm, honest! We just want to get to Rivendell as soon as possible. You see, one of us has been hurt pretty bad, and Strider said these weeds would help," he gestured with the kingsfoil.
"Where are the rest?" Mikhaella asked. At the hesitant hobbit's look she added,"We'd like to be of help. We mean no harm as well. Tell us your name."
"Back there in the glade," the hobbit replied,"Er...the name's Sam, short for Samwise. Samwise Gamgee from the Shire."
"Well, Samwise Gamgee of the Shire, lead the way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They walked with the hobbit for a short distance through the underbrush. Sam, sensing that the two really meant to assist and not to harm, eagerly brought them to the glade. The moon glowed and sent a shaft of undiluted moonlight to shine gently on them. Arwen and Mikhaella stepped forward silently and appraised the scene before them.
A tall figure stepped forward and confronted them. A male voice, low and rich, demanded,"What's this, Sam?" A glint of metal told them that he had a weapon, a long sword that looked very much at home in his comfortable and capable grip. This man would not hesitate to use it.
Mikhaella began to speak to pacify him,"We're Elves from Rivendell, come to help..." she paused, then looked in astonishment as Arwen went forward and stood directly in front of the tall human.
Breathing rapidly, Arwen cast her cloak back and bared her face to the man. "Is this how you treat the woman you love, son of Arathorn?" she asked in a voice that Mikhaella had never heard her use before. It was soft and full of a strong emotion she could not easily name. Mikhaella stared.
The man, his face hidden, stepped forward and the moonlight shone on his amazed and joyful countenance. "Arwen?" In that hoarse declaration was a wealth of feelings. The sword dropped from his hand.
And Mikhaella then realized that this was the beloved of Arwen.
"Aragorn," Arwen whispered. The two went forward and into each other's arms, and held each other in a tight embrace. The world ceased to exist around them in that moment....
Mikhaella felt tears in her eyes as she witnessed the lovers meet after being parted for so long. She turned away and wiped them off, stifling a sigh. Her heart was joyful for her friend, but... Oh, how she longed for a love of her own to cherish and hold dear....
Aragorn and Arwen began speaking softly in Elvish.
"It has been too long, my love." said Aragorn.
"Aye," assented Arwen,"Far too long." She looked up at him, suddenly serious,"I received your message in Rivendell. You say you safeguard the Ringbearer? Where, then, is he?"
Aragorn stepped back, and a shadow fell over his features. When he stepped backward Mikhaella and Arwen saw the rest of the party.
"Frodo is in most need of your help," stated Aragorn as Mikhaella and Arwen stared in dismay at the sight before them. Two hobbits knelt before the prostrate figure of a third (Frodo), whose eyes were closed. His skin was pale and sallow, and his breathing was labored. There was a nasty gash on his chest area, but though it ws not so large, it was quite deep. The skin around the wound had turned into an unusual color of green, and a putrid odor escaped from it. Mikhaella could not help but wince when she saw it.
"He was stabbed by a Morgul blade," Aragorn explained quietly as Arwen knelt before the wounded hobbit. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."
Arwen inspected the hobbit worriedly. Beside her Aragorn laid crushed athelas on the wound. Some of the herb's good essence would help slow down the evil poison permeating his being, but it would not be enough to stop it.
"Frodo," Arwen gazed in the Ringbearer's eyes,"Im Arwen, telin le thaed."She spoke in Elvish, attempting to combat the evil effects of the Nazgul with her own powers,"Lasto beth nin, tolo dan na ngalad..." :Listen to my words, come back to the light. It was an age-old chant of the Elves to combat malevolent forces and the like. But Frodo only took in a gasping breath, his face turning blue, and in that moment Arwen and Mikhaella knew that they could not do enough for him. He was too far gone.
"This is beyond even me," Arwen bowed her head in dismay, then stood,"He is fading. We must get him to my father."
***More to come soon....please tell me what you think of it so far. Oh yeah, and Legolas appears in the next chapter (whew! at last!)... :)
***(some lines taken from the movie.....) ***btw I own none of the characters (aw, shucks!) save for Mikhaella! :) Just stating the obvious...:)
The importance of their quest struck a heroic chord in Mikhaella---one that had lain dormant for so long but had been awakened before by the same person who did just that on that fateful day the messengers came to Rivendell, Arwen. But as they went on in their excruciatingly hard pace (Arwen pushed them on untiringly, stopping very seldomly only if they direly needed to), covering miles faster than the scouts of Elrond, Mikhaella, sore and tired from their exertions, began to think most unchivalrous thoughts about this Ringbearer they were risking life and limb to find.
But by dusk they'd reached their destination, and had left Rivendell far behind. Mikhaella drew Telumendil to a stop, both horse and rider appearing thoroughly exhausted. And indeed, they were. "If we go on at this pace, Arwen, we'd be of not much help to the Ringbearer at all." Mikhaella sighed and looked up at the sky, with the full moon rising slowly above the tops of the trees. "I propose we stop and rest."
Arwen seemed to consider her request, bu as she opened her mouth to speak, she suddenly stiffened and cocked her head the side. "Lasto," she whispered: Listen.
Asfaloth neighed a warning, and Telumendil stamped her hooves skittishly. Mikhaella strained her ears to hear, and sure enough, her keen elven ears detected a slight scuffling sound in the woods beside them.
Crack.
There. Someone was trudging through the thicket with all the stealth of a wild boar. Surely it could not be one of the elven scouts, for no elf produced such noise that others could hear their approach from far off.
Quietly, she dismounted and tied her horse to the tree, keeping off the road. Arwen followed her example and the two elven princesses turned toward the direction of the sound, looking for the source. Arwen had her daggers, and she tossed one to Mikhaella for her to arm herself in case it was a hostile creature.
They had not far to look. Before long their silent footsteps led them to a most unusual creature who they found on his hands and knees on the grass, looking through the foliage with a distressed look on his face. He was short of stature, but he was not one of the Dwarf-folk, for he did not have the long beard and stout stature. He had strange hairy feet no dwarf possessed, and his ears were as delicately pointed as those of the Elven- folk. What manner of creature was this?
"A hobbit," Mikhaella whispered in amazement. She'd heard of them, but had never actually laid eyes on one until now. What was a hobbit doing so far from Bree and the Shire, their homeland? she wondered.
The hobbit, who had not yet been alerted to the presence of the two, kept his gaze fixed on the ground. He was shaking his head sorrowfully to himself and muttering, "Kingsfoil, kingsfoil....have to find that kingsfoil, oh, where is it when you need it?"
Silently, with the stealthiness and grace of a deer, Mikhaella strode forward, plucked a nearby specimen which she'd easily spotted with her superior powers of sight, and touched his shoulder with it. "Athelas," she murmured the Elvish name of the medicinal plant. At the sound of her voice, however, the hobbit jumped a foot high into the air.
"Oh, my lordie," he gasped, staring at them with eyes as wide as saucers,"You're...you're...you're Elves!!" he was going to say something more but it was lost as he seemed to strangle a bit in his amazement and awe. He was utterly stumped, and Mikhaella felt a twinge of compassion for the poor thing. She had an inkling of how utterly unusual and unearthly she and Arwen must look to the exhausted hobbit. To him they seemed to radiate a certain glow and aura...like ethereal nymphs of the legends of old, especially with their pointed ears, delicate features and Elven grace. The fact that they were ELVES made all the difference to the hobbit, who was no one else but the inexpendable Samwise Gamgee.
"I believe you were looking for this," she said, extending the plant to him, her face and voice comforting and not in the least threatening. She peered closer at him. There were circles under the hobbit's eyes, and he appeared drawn and pale. The hobbit looked very tired and strained almost to the point of breaking. Who knew what horrors he'd been through...
"Thank you..." he stammered, taking the offered herbs,"My lady..."
"You choose a strange time to go herb-picking, good sir," Arwen said, coming forward with a reassuring smile,"Many perils await you in these parts."
The hobbit's face grew taut with remembered anxiety,"You mean those Black Riders? Y-yes...we know...we've run into them already."
Arwen and Mikhaella exchanged glances. "How many were they?" Arwen quickly asked. Mikhaella put in: "We--?"
"F..five..."stammered the hobbit, "And we...five of us as well. Me, Pippin, Merry, Frodo and Strider. We mean no harm, honest! We just want to get to Rivendell as soon as possible. You see, one of us has been hurt pretty bad, and Strider said these weeds would help," he gestured with the kingsfoil.
"Where are the rest?" Mikhaella asked. At the hesitant hobbit's look she added,"We'd like to be of help. We mean no harm as well. Tell us your name."
"Back there in the glade," the hobbit replied,"Er...the name's Sam, short for Samwise. Samwise Gamgee from the Shire."
"Well, Samwise Gamgee of the Shire, lead the way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They walked with the hobbit for a short distance through the underbrush. Sam, sensing that the two really meant to assist and not to harm, eagerly brought them to the glade. The moon glowed and sent a shaft of undiluted moonlight to shine gently on them. Arwen and Mikhaella stepped forward silently and appraised the scene before them.
A tall figure stepped forward and confronted them. A male voice, low and rich, demanded,"What's this, Sam?" A glint of metal told them that he had a weapon, a long sword that looked very much at home in his comfortable and capable grip. This man would not hesitate to use it.
Mikhaella began to speak to pacify him,"We're Elves from Rivendell, come to help..." she paused, then looked in astonishment as Arwen went forward and stood directly in front of the tall human.
Breathing rapidly, Arwen cast her cloak back and bared her face to the man. "Is this how you treat the woman you love, son of Arathorn?" she asked in a voice that Mikhaella had never heard her use before. It was soft and full of a strong emotion she could not easily name. Mikhaella stared.
The man, his face hidden, stepped forward and the moonlight shone on his amazed and joyful countenance. "Arwen?" In that hoarse declaration was a wealth of feelings. The sword dropped from his hand.
And Mikhaella then realized that this was the beloved of Arwen.
"Aragorn," Arwen whispered. The two went forward and into each other's arms, and held each other in a tight embrace. The world ceased to exist around them in that moment....
Mikhaella felt tears in her eyes as she witnessed the lovers meet after being parted for so long. She turned away and wiped them off, stifling a sigh. Her heart was joyful for her friend, but... Oh, how she longed for a love of her own to cherish and hold dear....
Aragorn and Arwen began speaking softly in Elvish.
"It has been too long, my love." said Aragorn.
"Aye," assented Arwen,"Far too long." She looked up at him, suddenly serious,"I received your message in Rivendell. You say you safeguard the Ringbearer? Where, then, is he?"
Aragorn stepped back, and a shadow fell over his features. When he stepped backward Mikhaella and Arwen saw the rest of the party.
"Frodo is in most need of your help," stated Aragorn as Mikhaella and Arwen stared in dismay at the sight before them. Two hobbits knelt before the prostrate figure of a third (Frodo), whose eyes were closed. His skin was pale and sallow, and his breathing was labored. There was a nasty gash on his chest area, but though it ws not so large, it was quite deep. The skin around the wound had turned into an unusual color of green, and a putrid odor escaped from it. Mikhaella could not help but wince when she saw it.
"He was stabbed by a Morgul blade," Aragorn explained quietly as Arwen knelt before the wounded hobbit. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."
Arwen inspected the hobbit worriedly. Beside her Aragorn laid crushed athelas on the wound. Some of the herb's good essence would help slow down the evil poison permeating his being, but it would not be enough to stop it.
"Frodo," Arwen gazed in the Ringbearer's eyes,"Im Arwen, telin le thaed."She spoke in Elvish, attempting to combat the evil effects of the Nazgul with her own powers,"Lasto beth nin, tolo dan na ngalad..." :Listen to my words, come back to the light. It was an age-old chant of the Elves to combat malevolent forces and the like. But Frodo only took in a gasping breath, his face turning blue, and in that moment Arwen and Mikhaella knew that they could not do enough for him. He was too far gone.
"This is beyond even me," Arwen bowed her head in dismay, then stood,"He is fading. We must get him to my father."
***More to come soon....please tell me what you think of it so far. Oh yeah, and Legolas appears in the next chapter (whew! at last!)... :)