Merry and Pippin
Note- Umm, ok. The answer to last chapter's riddle was a stapler. Before that was a deck of cards. Here's an easy one (I'm too lazy to look one up today)
What's brown and sticky?
Like I said, waaaay to easy.
~Chapter IX- The Sacrifice: Part II~
Merry felt his the skin of his own hands melting in the flames of Gollum's furnace. He didn't even flinch. His hair was singed from the tremendous heat, and blisters were already beginning to form along his arms. None of that mattered. Merry reached further into the flames until he felt something solid. Even though he felt the pain of a thousand burning needles being thrust into his skin when he attempted to even touch it, he grasped the thing and heaved it out of the fire. The skin was charred, no hair was left, and the body looked burnt beyond repair, but Merry could still recognize his brother.
"Oh, Pippin! I'm so sorry! This wasn't supposed to happen. You aren't supposed to die for me. I'm the one who should be protecting you. I'm so sorry." The young hobbit buried his face into his hands as he broke down into tears. He felt something rough and warm brush his cheek. He glanced up to see Pippin's hand (or what was left of it).
"Pippin! You're alive! There's still a chance!" Merry gently kissed his brother's forehead as he chanted the words to the summoning spell Arwen had taught his an eternity ago. It didn't matter that he'd never be able to use the spell again. It didn't matter that if The Great Galadriel couldn't help, the spell would be wasted. Only one thing mattered: Pippin.
)% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )%
The Great Galadriel looked around the small cottage. It had taken her five minutes to arrive, and she saw no signs of Arwen anywhere. Instead, two small hobbits, both looking like they needed severe medical attention, were there on the dusty floor. The well-er looking of the two peered up at her though teary eyes.
"Are you Galadriel the Great?" He asked in a meek voice.
"Are you a friend of Arwen Evenstar?" Galadriel asked skeptically.
"She's our mother." The small hobbit must have noticed her quizzical expression, because he quickly added, "We're adopted."
Galadriel began probing his mind, to see if he really was who he said he was, and to find out what had happened. He didn't try to fight her as she searched his mind.
"I see. Merry of the Shire, There is little I can do for him." Merry buried his head into his hands once again, and felt a stinging wave of tears in his eyes.
"Wait. Do not lose hope. There is little I can do for him, but there is something YOU can do. He is too far gone for me to heal on my own, but if you lend me your energy, we might be able to save him."
"Alright, let's do it!"
"Wait, young one. There are risks. He is very near to death. It could be that no amount of healing will stop him from dying. If I use too much your life energy on him, you might perish. If I try to heal him, it might cost you both of your lives. Your brother sacrificed his life for yours. Will you let that be in vain?"
" If there is even the slightest chance that he will live, than I'll do it. That he was willing to die for me is all the more reason. How could I call myself his brother if I were to do anything less than what he did for me. I don't care how much of my life you have to take, Lady Galadriel. You must save him!" He looked up at her with pleading eyes before setting his gaze onto his charred, unconscious brother.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Galadriel asked, gathering up her magic for the spell. Merry didn't answer. Instead, he slipped his burnt hand into her own smooth, fair one. As she began draining his life-giving energy, she heard him whisper, ' don't worry Pippin. I'll save you.'
~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=
You know what? I just realized that this story has kind of gotten off the humor genre just a tad. Don't worry, I'll get it back on track soon enough. The angsty sacrificing is almost at its end. The moral of chapter IX- those favors from famous magical people can really come in handy.
Yeah, I forgot to put the moral up for chapter 8, so I'll do that now too- Never try to cook a hobbit; they love food, but not THAT much.
Note- Umm, ok. The answer to last chapter's riddle was a stapler. Before that was a deck of cards. Here's an easy one (I'm too lazy to look one up today)
What's brown and sticky?
Like I said, waaaay to easy.
~Chapter IX- The Sacrifice: Part II~
Merry felt his the skin of his own hands melting in the flames of Gollum's furnace. He didn't even flinch. His hair was singed from the tremendous heat, and blisters were already beginning to form along his arms. None of that mattered. Merry reached further into the flames until he felt something solid. Even though he felt the pain of a thousand burning needles being thrust into his skin when he attempted to even touch it, he grasped the thing and heaved it out of the fire. The skin was charred, no hair was left, and the body looked burnt beyond repair, but Merry could still recognize his brother.
"Oh, Pippin! I'm so sorry! This wasn't supposed to happen. You aren't supposed to die for me. I'm the one who should be protecting you. I'm so sorry." The young hobbit buried his face into his hands as he broke down into tears. He felt something rough and warm brush his cheek. He glanced up to see Pippin's hand (or what was left of it).
"Pippin! You're alive! There's still a chance!" Merry gently kissed his brother's forehead as he chanted the words to the summoning spell Arwen had taught his an eternity ago. It didn't matter that he'd never be able to use the spell again. It didn't matter that if The Great Galadriel couldn't help, the spell would be wasted. Only one thing mattered: Pippin.
)% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )% )%
The Great Galadriel looked around the small cottage. It had taken her five minutes to arrive, and she saw no signs of Arwen anywhere. Instead, two small hobbits, both looking like they needed severe medical attention, were there on the dusty floor. The well-er looking of the two peered up at her though teary eyes.
"Are you Galadriel the Great?" He asked in a meek voice.
"Are you a friend of Arwen Evenstar?" Galadriel asked skeptically.
"She's our mother." The small hobbit must have noticed her quizzical expression, because he quickly added, "We're adopted."
Galadriel began probing his mind, to see if he really was who he said he was, and to find out what had happened. He didn't try to fight her as she searched his mind.
"I see. Merry of the Shire, There is little I can do for him." Merry buried his head into his hands once again, and felt a stinging wave of tears in his eyes.
"Wait. Do not lose hope. There is little I can do for him, but there is something YOU can do. He is too far gone for me to heal on my own, but if you lend me your energy, we might be able to save him."
"Alright, let's do it!"
"Wait, young one. There are risks. He is very near to death. It could be that no amount of healing will stop him from dying. If I use too much your life energy on him, you might perish. If I try to heal him, it might cost you both of your lives. Your brother sacrificed his life for yours. Will you let that be in vain?"
" If there is even the slightest chance that he will live, than I'll do it. That he was willing to die for me is all the more reason. How could I call myself his brother if I were to do anything less than what he did for me. I don't care how much of my life you have to take, Lady Galadriel. You must save him!" He looked up at her with pleading eyes before setting his gaze onto his charred, unconscious brother.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Galadriel asked, gathering up her magic for the spell. Merry didn't answer. Instead, he slipped his burnt hand into her own smooth, fair one. As she began draining his life-giving energy, she heard him whisper, ' don't worry Pippin. I'll save you.'
~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=~-=
You know what? I just realized that this story has kind of gotten off the humor genre just a tad. Don't worry, I'll get it back on track soon enough. The angsty sacrificing is almost at its end. The moral of chapter IX- those favors from famous magical people can really come in handy.
Yeah, I forgot to put the moral up for chapter 8, so I'll do that now too- Never try to cook a hobbit; they love food, but not THAT much.