A/N - It has come to my attention that there are a few Legolas lovers amongst my reviewers. This chapter is for you. This chapter is also for Frodolover, as it features a very special appearance from one of her apparent favourite characters (aside from the obvious of course!)! Enjoy!
I would like to apologise to anyone who read the version of this chapter originally posted: I did write the entire chapter (and saved it several times) before posting it. I then went to print it and discovered that not only had my computer disposed of my work, but I had only posted a section of a chapter on fanfiction! Major headache! So.... I am having to rewrite the chapter now (a few days later because I've been away) and repost it! Sorry!
Chapter 5 - The one with the elf and a surprise character appearance!
It was the night after the very rainy day and the hobbits were asleep in their tent. Except for Sam. He was tossing and turning in fitful rest, an uneasy sensation in his mind. It was playing tricks on him, plaguing him with echoes from the past: familiar voices and sounds. Or so he thought. Could they be real?
"Fisshh.... fisssshh......precioussss. Preciousssss is hungry. Nice fissshess."
Gollum, thought Sam. But Gollum was - dead. Wasn't he?
~* Flashback *~
Gollum bit the ring from Frodo's finger. In his joyous victory, he fell into the volcano. The ring landed in the bubbling lava and was unmade. Gollum was not seen again.
~* End flashback *~
"Nice hobbitses..... hobbitses got fissshh..... fissssh for precioussssss....."
Feeling extremely paranoid, Sam crawled out of his sleeping bag, before emerging from the tent and onto the sodden grass of the field. He switched on Frodo's torch and shone the beam in every direction - there was nothing there.
"Stupid hobbit Gamgee. You're imagining things again. Shouldn't drink so much." he muttered to himself.
Now sufficiently weary, Sam crawled back to bed and began his slumber, thinking no more of the traitorous little footpad: Gollum.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam woke the next morning with little recollection of his paranoia of the night before. Any emotion or remembrance had been replaced by a nervous excitement that had surfaced due to the fact that it was the day of the second heat of his race.
It was also the day of the drinking contest, which Sam was most displeased about because it meant that he couldn't join in (although watching a very drunk Sam run could be quite amusing!). Frodo, Merry and Pippin all qualified through to the next round, mainly because they were the only participants not completely drunk by luncheon. This could have been for one of two reasons (although it was most likely the first): either Merry and Pippin had substituted the weak ale supplied for the competition use for the strong ale bought for the judges; or the hobbits in the competition all drank like Pippin! Either way, all of the races and further events that morning had to be cancelled because somehow the judges had managed to breach the rules and join in with the drinking. This meant that the hobbits had some free time.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frodo arrived at the field towards the edge of the Olympic village and set up the equipment he had borrowed. He had thought that he would use the free time granted because of Merry and Pippin's prank constructively and hone his archery 'skills'.
He grasped the bow with his hands and loaded up an arrow. He was just about to release the arrow and let it fly when an amused voice said:
"You know, you're never going to beat me if you hold it like that."
Instantaneously, Frodo dropped the bow and arrow and ran towards the owner of the voice. He hugged Legolas tightly, gripping him around the knees.
"Leggy! What are you doing here? I thought you were holidaying in Lothlorien!"
"I was, but I heard you were to be challenging me in this competition and came to rescue you. And don't call me Leggy, hobbit boy."
"Does anyone else know you're here?"
"Didn't you here the screams?" Legolas shuddered as he referred to the things that scared him most in the world and yet were constantly tailing him: fangirls.
"Very funny! I meant Fellowship hobbits, I know they would be pleased to see you."
"Yes, I saw them too. Now do you want some help with this archery or what?"
With that final comment, the joking ended, and Legolas aided Frodo with his archery. They practised hard, and only stopped because it was time for Sam's rescheduled race. Besides, they both realised that they were hungry.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frodo and Legolas approached the race area cautiously as a host of female hobbits had gathered to watch and Legolas hoped to go unnoticed. No such luck. As they walked across the grassy seating area to where Sam, Merry and Pippin were seated, pippin turned around and saw them.
"Hey Frodo, Legolas - we saved you some seats."
A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes were turned to focus on the two newcomers. Then, they erupted.
"Oh my god, it's Legolas!" A young hobbit screamed. The rest of the female population of the Shire followed suit, running over to meet their idol. Legolas turned to escape, and found that he was completely surround. Mass hysteria had broken out.
In the commotion, nobody noticed as a small figure slipped inside the starting area. It was a figure that would have shocked most of the hobbits present if he was seen. For this figure was Gollum and, contrary to popular opinion, he was alive and well: just. When he had so cruelly taken the ring from Frodo inside Mount Doom and lost his balance, the ring had met the bubbling lava, but he had not. He had clung desperately onto a small ledge, concealed from the view of Frodo of Sam, until he had been able to haul himself up. His desire for the ring had been destroyed with it, and his focus had now been switched to the downfall of Samwise - the hobbit who had been, in his opinion, so merciless and cruel to him. The Olympics were the perfect opportunity for this.
"On your marks, get set, GO!"
The race had begun. Sam ran as fast as he could but was only managing to remain in about ninth position - one behind the qualifying group. He looked back to see how his competitors were faring and spotted Gollum, running desperately and angrily towards him, a crazed look in his large luminous eyes. He was gaining fast. Sam accelerated, exceeding his own expectations of his speed, and sped on - increasing the gap between him and Gollum. He ran and ran and ran, not caring anymore about the race, just wanting to escape. He kept running, not looking where he was going, until - CRASH! Everything went black.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Look - he's waking up!"
Sam opened his eyes to see three hobbits and an elf crowded around him. They all had very concerned looks upon their faces.
"What happened? Where am I?" he said.
"You're in the hospital tent," Frodo answered. "You won the race, but Gollum kept chasing you, and you kept running - straight into a tree."
"But what about Gollum."
"He was caught," Merry supplied, "He's been sent to Minas Tirith so Aragorn can deal with him."
"Oh, right." said Sam, before rolling over and going back to sleep.
"I think that's our signal to leave!" said Pippin.
"Yep," said Legolas, "But I think I'm going to follow Sam's lead and turn in for the night."
"Well it's certainly been an eventful day!" said Frodo.
A/N - Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, and did I say, sorry! Bit of artistic license used here - don't sue!
Will be back with chapter 6 asap!
Thanks for continuing to be wonderful reviewers!
Rachel xx
