oOoOo~*~THIS CHAPTER HAS NOT BEEN EDITED~*~oOoOo
Author's Note: And here's chapter 6! Later chapters temporarily may not come as frequently due to moving to a new house. Chizzy, you'll have to man the post for me at Hogwarts 2020-2021 while I'm moving, packing and unpacking, along with Internet-deprived, and Mel, can you do me a very huge favor and clear any spam or yahoo-groups messages out of my inbox? And Malting and Lissi, if you guys decide to be moderators, you'll get to act as full-fledged admins at the Shire's boarding school, Millborough Hall, while I'm out of commission as an admin! ~^.^~ Yeah, yeah, now that I'm done advertising the RPGs I'll be neglecting from an unknown date to another unknown date, I'm going to take this opportunity to reply to reviewers!
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Yeah, just for a spoiler, it /is/ Glorfindel who is coming, I am remaining true to the books. Aargh... all the movies cut Glorfindel out, in the cartoon it was Legolas instead of Glorfindel. Grr...
Obelia Medusa: You mean you wrote a longer review than usual? Congrats! ~^_^~ Just to let you know, I am currently cooking up a fic concerning a creature created by Sauron who turns on his master. A seed of an idea caused by my friend Jordanna, now I just have to get rid of the writer's block and think up a story to fit it. *makes a face* Writer's block.. the curse of authoring stories.
TrueFan: Whoa, you've really outdone yourself this time! I printed out my entire reviews page.. And you took up one and a third printed pages with that latest review of yours. Congrats, you shattered your own record! By the way, you're a pretty good RPer for a newbie.. You sure Hogwarts 2020- 2021 is your first one? Or are you really good at picking up what the admins want by posts from the admins?
Whoever reviewed "Chapter 6" when it mis-uploaded and only showed the Author's Note *glares at fanfiction.net for making her have to delete a chapter along with the review as so not to risk getting an Infraction Alert*: Thanks for the review! Here's the real installment of Chapter 6.. and seven is already in progress, consisting of the elf's coming to the battle at the Ford of Bruinen
Disclaimer: Meh.. Disclaimers are evil. All standard terms of disclaimers apply to this, as I am not in any way associated with Tolkien besides reading his wonderful books. Not a family member or anything. By the way, speaking of family members of authors, the father of my friend James, Marc Vunkannon, has just published a fantasy! It's called Unbinding the Stone. Expect me to start advertising it when I find out what bookstores it is going to end up in. Hey, what are friends for, right James?
The next day came bright and fair, but with naught but pale light in the rain washed sky. All felt buoyant save Frodo, who hadn't gotten any real rest, just onerous nightmares about endless winged creatures bearing his feared pursuers were flying about seeking him. As soon as it was wholly daylight, Strider went to assess the country, taking Merry with him. Meanwhile, April was trying to rouse Libby, who kept rolling over and mumbling nonsense each time April shook her shoulder or prodded her. Pippin was watching with glee, while Sam was attempting to comfort Frodo, who seemed to be suffering from mounting agony from his Nazgul-inflicted wound.
Pippin couldn't help but smile roguishly to himself as he watched April's futile attempts to fully arouse her stubborn friend. For some reason unknown, Libby was simply refusing to get up, or perhaps she had finally slept contentedly. What Pippin did not know was that though Libby was normally such a heavy sleeper that she could compared to a rock, she required being comfortable with her sleeping-quarters to sleep soundly. When April pulled Libby's hood off her face, the tall blonde merely swatted her hand before resting her head on her arm. A sudden, devious idea came into Pippin's curly haired head. He motioned for April to duck her head so he could whisper his idea into April's ear.
"I think we should dump water on her, that always works. I'm willing to do that in case Libby does anything in retaliation," Pippin hissed into the Asian girl's ear. April smirked and nodded her assent. Pippin smiled more widely, pleased that she was going along with his plot, Pippin felt like reviving the good old days of frivolities. Pippin dipped a cup into the water, which was only lukewarm at the moment, and walked over to the side of the half-asleep blonde. Frodo said something to Sam, who turned around. Pippin was pleased with himself; Frodo had evidently deduced what he was about to do. When April mouthed the signal, Pippin dumped the contents of the cup onto the girl's head.
Libby awoke with a start, giving a earsplitting, high-pitched shriek as something wet and thick suddenly hit the side of her face. Her blue-gray eyes snapped open and, catching sight of April and Pippin beside themselves with mirth, felt a rush of annoyance and amusement simultaneously. She shot up from her bedroll and bopped April up side the head with her hand.
"Ow!" April said, rubbing the side of her head, still chortling. At the same time, Pippin managed to snigger, "I think she's awake now!"
"My God, you two, you're really.." As Libby was about to finish her sentence, Strider came sprinting onto the ridge with Merry. Both had their swords drawn and looked tense. Both had heard Libby's cry, and had feared an ensuing struggle.
Aragorn felt infuriated once he realized that nothing had gone wrong and the scream he and Merry had heard had merely been the product of childish antics. After Pippin and April confessed to have given Libby a rude awakening and Libby admitted that she'd been the source of the cry, Strider angrily reprimanded them, reminding them of the grave peril all, especially Frodo, were still in. "This is neither the place, nor the time, for your irrational high jinks! If the Black Riders had been nearby, they would doubtless have been alerted to our presence by Libby's shriek! Have you forgotten our plight?" he said curtly.
Libby, April, and Pippin all exchanged awkward glances with one another, frightened by Aragorn's fury. At the same tie, all three felt guilty about having risked their lives for idiotic merriment, especially since the injured Frodo was unable to anything and at the same time be devoid of severe agony. Tiny little Pippin shuddered at the thought that he could have alerted Black Riders to their presence, however far off they might have been. Meanwhile, Libby was thinking, I am such an ignoramus sometimes.
"Which way are we going, Mr. Strider?" Sam asked timidly, in a combined attempt to change the subject and to alleviate the tension, which appeared to be upsetting Frodo. The chubby hobbit fixed a blue-eyed gaze on the man, waiting for a response.
Aragorn had been immensely relieved when Merry and he had gone to survey the country. According to his skills when it came to sensing direction, they were now on a more proper road. The Ranger had spotted the Loudwater from the summit at which he and Merry had checked out the area, and although the Road wasn't in his line of vision, the Man now knew that the Road was very nearby. He had finally resolved that hazardous though the Road undoubtedly was, it was the quickest way to the Ford. More and more life was dwindling out of the battered Ring-bearer, and if they tarried for much longer, vainly searching for a passageway in the thick hills, Frodo cease to exist and become exactly like the vile creature which had inflicted the deadly wound upon him. The athelas only somewhat assuaged the pain the hobbit was suffering by day and by night, and it was growing less and less effective as the dark powers of the wound more and more efficiently fought the virtues of the herb.
"We must make for the Road, as it is hopeless to find a path through these hills. Whatever danger may be set upon it, the Road is the only way to the Ford of Bruinen. Speed is our only ally in our plight," Aragorn said. "We are heading in the proper direction now, we are no longer lost in the Wild."
The others were infinitely reassured by Aragorn's news. The road was easier to move along than these ludicrously impassable hills, and they would be able to move more quickly due to the subtracted burden of having to meticulously verify the way they were headed every half-hour or so. Now that the group of companions knew the route in which they were headed for certain, they had earned some essential time. Would it be enough, though, or was it already too late for Frodo? This disheartening reflection was in the minds of all, even Aragorn.
After a quick meal of porridge, the group began to progress again. Frodo was glad that he was heading downwards now, as it wasted a considerably smaller amount of energy than ascending the ill had done. To add to his respite, the slope of the hill was growing very gentle! However, pain was assailing him again, and a mist kept clouding over his eyes, shrouding his eyesight. On one instance, Merry, who was walking in front of him, suddenly seemed to double, and Frodo slowly passed his hands over his eyes, although that small action caused the pain in his left side to mount.
Before long, the land was travelable enough for Frodo to ride Bill again, and Aragorn gently lifted the eldest and tallest of the four hobbits onto the pony, once again dividing up the luggage amongst himself, the younger three hobbits, and the teenaged girls. The only worry at the moment was the packs seemed considerably lighter than when they had set out from Weathertop, as April suddenly observed with dismay and pointed out to Strider. Their provisions were dwindling rapidly.
"I'm afraid there is nothing we can really do, besides take that as yet another incentive to hasten," Aragorn said gently to the worried teenager, patting the Asian-American on the shoulder. "We will merely have to ration our equipment the best we can, April." Aragorn felt his heart sinking slightly, and he fervently hoped that their goods would last until Rivendell. He had not expected to take up with two extra companions en route to his childhood home. April and Libby did seem somewhat useful though, at least as comic relief for the two youngest hobbits. He also sensed that perhaps April and Libby were somewhat wiser for their ages than he'd originally thought, though they were downright incautious to the point of reprimanding from him at times.
April accepted Aragorn's words with a small nod, readjusting the weight of her bookbag on her aching shoulders. Her muscles had been sore for the past days, although the discomfort was now alleviating as she grew used to bearing a burden. All the same, she was worried about the food running low. The small fifteen-year-old (or was she now sixteen? As soon as nineteen days from October sixth passed, she would have been alive sixteen years. Apparently in this place, her birthday was October 25th, while Libby's birthday would be exactly sixth months later, or April 6th) tucked a few stray strands of black hair behind her left ear, and watched the smallest hobbit, Pippin, drawing further and further ahead of the others.
Suddenly, the youngest hobbit stopped short, drew in his breath with joy, and turned around. He had spotted the beginnings of a path, littered with stones and fallen trees at some points. "There is a path here!" Pippin shouted excitedly, pleased with himself. He stood rooted to the spot, waiting for the others to catch up to him.
Libby took off at a sprint, eager to see what Pippin was indicating. April was following close behind her friend, while Sam, Merry, and Aragorn remained walking, Aragorn leading Bill, who was bearing the injured Frodo, along. Frodo looked up from his perch on the pony's back, his blue eyes seeming to come back into focus.
"What is it. AARGH!" The strap of Libby's handbag ripped, and the denim bag, with its contents of food, fell to the ground with a thud. "Of all the pains in the ass.." She shoved the spilled containers, which thankfully had not burst, back into the bag and began running again. April stooped to pick up one her older friend had accidentally left behind.
When the others had reached the smallest of the company, who was pointing, they saw that the tweenaged hobbit was indeed correct: the unmistakable beginnings of a path, offering an easy way downwards.
"Sorry Aragorn.. I didn't notice my bag was beginning to rip," Libby mumbled shamefacedly, chewing on her lip.
"No harm was done, you're forgiven," Aragorn answered. He just hoped that the girl would be able to carry her bag now that the strap was useless. By the looks of it, Libby would have to clasp it against her body with both arms for the remainder of the journey, or until they had somehow mended the strap.
The group cautiously followed the footpath, growing apprehensive as it led into a dark wooded area. Suddenly, they came upon an enormous door, almost twice the height of Libby and even Aragorn, and it was ajar upon one hinge. The company halted, realizing that there was some sort of chamber within, but because of the darkness of the forest, nothing could be seen from outside. Sam, Aragorn, and Merry managed to heave the door open a little wider, using all of their physical strength, and Aragorn and Merry squeezed inside, leaving the other five waiting.
Pippin shifted his weight uneasily, trying to figure out what creature would inhabit a hole with such a gargantuan entrance. Suddenly, an idea hit him, causing him to give an involuntary quiver of fear. His hazel eyes darted around, half-expecting to spot an infuriated troll advancing upon him, and then he called, "If there was ever a troll-hole, this is it! Come on out, and let us get away/ Now we know what made this path, and we ought to get off it quick!" The youngest of the hobbits worriedly looked up and down the path again, and then around at the companions waiting outside with him. Frodo sat unmoved, but Sam, April, and Libby all looked alarmed.
Aragorn squeezed back out through the crack, followed by Merry. He was adamant despite the hobbit's concerns, knowing from his brief observation that trolls were not an impending doom at the moment. "There is no need, I think. A troll-hole this unquestionably is, but it seems long abandoned. Let us maintain our course guardedly, and we shall see."
The seven companions went on, continuing along the path, which was now plunging down to an even thicker wooded area. Pippin was still afraid, but didn't wish to own up to his cowardice, and went on ahead with Merry. Libby and April were about thirty or forty feet behind them, and Sam, Aragorn, and Bill carrying Frodo took up the rear.
"Mer, exactly what was inside that.. Oh, no." Pippin blanched as his hazel eyes caught sight of three vast black shapes dwarfing himself and Merry at least three or four times, not too far ahead through the thick tree trunks. He wiped his sweaty hands against his trousers, and asked, with a cracking tone, "Do you see what I think I see?"
Merry's brown eyes looked in the direction Pippin was specifying, and he too felt a thrill of absolute dread. "Run! We've got to warn Strider and the others!" the older hobbit squeaked.
Pippin didn't need telling twice. He immediately did an about-face and went sprinting back towards Strider, Merry following close behind. As they passed Libby and April, he heard Merry gasp, "Follow us!" and then the feet of the two girls thudding along behind them with a racket typical of the Big People.
"There are trolls," Pippin panted, clutching at a stitch in his side. "Down in a clearing not far below, we saw them through the tree trunks! They're huge! I knew there were trolls here!"
Aragorn picked up a stick, inwardly amused. All the same, he was glad that Peregrin had some sense of danger, small though it was. This time, he knew that Pippin was mistaken, but the young hobbit was being unusually wary today. "We will come and look at them. The Ranger strode forward, after noting that Frodo was the only one who hadn't shown any sign of fright. Aragorn didn't know what to make of this. Did Frodo remember that one simple fact about trolls, or was his wound bothering him so appallingly that he was beginning to become apathetic, no longer wishing to live? Aragorn made a mental note to tend to the brave Ring-bearer and ask how Frodo felt after he had shown that the trolls were stone. The tall man decided that the group could rest in that glade in the Trollshaws, and possibly reminisce about Bilbo's adventures almost eighty years before. All would certainly be interested, particularly the two girls, unfamiliar with any of their customs an clueless to the extent of the peril they were all in. Aragorn was beginning to consider telling them about the Ring, but he decided, that is not for me to decide, nor am I a hundred percent sure of their worth, though they seem trustworthy. Aragorn glanced upwards at the sun, now high in the sky, as he led the others on towards the glade.
The group halted on the edge of the glade with abated breath, peering through the thick tree trunks at the massive silhouettes of three trolls. One was stooping for something, while the other two had their gazes fixed on the first.
Aragorn strode right into the glade nonchalantly, hitting the stooping troll with a powerful wallop which caused the stick to break in two, while saying, "Get up, you old stone!" Nothing else to speak of occurred as a result.
The others gasped with wonder, and then all the hobbits, even Frodo, laughed. "Well, I'll be!" the eldest of the four hobbits said. Straightening on Bill with newfound vigor. "We are forgetting our family history! These must be the exact three caught by Gandalf, quarreling over how to cook thirteen dwarves and one small hobbit!" He pushed himself up with his good arm to squint closer at the trolls, surprised to note that his pain seemed to be trivial.. for the moment. April and Libby exchanged baffled glances with one another.
"I had no idea we were near the place, Strider!" Pippin said, who knew the story well but had never more than half believed it. His hazel eyes were focused on the trolls with a doubtful skepticism, wondering if they would suddenly spring to life again.
Aragorn half-smiled as he took note of the young hobbit's misgivings, and also the puzzlement of the two girls. "You are forgetting not only your family history, but all you ever knew about trolls.," Strider said, sounding amused. "It is midday with san exceptionally bright sun, yet you two come back trying to scare me with a tale of live trolls waiting here for us! In any case you might have noticed that this one has a birds nest behind his ear, that would be a most unusual ornament for a live troll!"
They all burst out laughing, even Libby and April, who got this jest by Strider. It was a relief knowing that this Strider, who was usually so tense and stern, had a sense of humor. The two teenagers grinned at each other, liking this newfound side of the man.
Frodo, meanwhile, felt his morale reviving, it was cheering to be reminded of Bilbo's first success in his many adventures. The sun was warm and a source of comfort, and the mist shrouding his vision seemed to be clearing, and he could see the faces of his friends more clearly. Strider announced that they could have a brief rest in the glade, and they had the mid-day meal right in the shade of the enormous trolls.
"That's a very interesting tale!" April declared when Frodo had given a brief recap of his uncle Bilbo and the adventure with these very trolls. The Asian-American girl idly braided a few small strands of her hair, smiling at the hobbit. "Feel free to tell more when you feel up to it." April took another bite out of her apple. She was glad to see than even Frodo was managing to eat somewhat normally, the hobbit seemed to be enjoying the apple and stewed rabbit Strider had served. She and Libby weren't accustomed to eating such animals as rabbits, but here in the wilderness the unusual food was quite satisfactory.
"What of where you two are from? We haven't heard much from you save the tale of Libby's cat prank," Pippin said, hoping to hear of more caper of a younger Libby, or April's jokes.
"Well.." April began, trying to get the faintest inkling of a story of either herself or Libby. "What can I say? She had no regards of rules regarding being quiet as a little kid, and she's never been much on punctuality, I must say. Oh! I think I remembered something.. To the words school fair mean anything to you, Libberoni?"
Merry laughed at this latest variant on Libby's name; April certainly seemed to adore giving her friend nicknames. So far, he could remember Libbers, the Libster, and now Libberoni. "If this is another joke I want to hear it!"
Libby smiled, fondly remembering that April seemed to be referring to. Before Liberty could lose this recollection, she plunged into the tale. "At the fair they had this booth where if you throw something and hit a red target, you knock the person sitting in the booth into a pool of water. My teacher was the one in the chair."
"Don't tell me your aim was true and you struck the target," Pippin said with enthusiasm, enthralled by the description of the pool. He could think of a few choice individuals back in the Shire who he would dearly yearn to knock into water, preferably the Brandywine!
"Even better," Libby said, a devious smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "I am actually totally uncoordinated, as I'm surprised you didn't figure out by now, Pip. I missed the target. But I did get him."
"Aww," Pippin said, wondering what the climax of Libby's little glimmer of memory would be. He felt slightly foolish, he had known that Libby had a rather poor aim whenever she attempted to throw things.
"Well, if you missed, you had to get the balls when you finished your turn. I like, went to get mine. The balls hard hit the tarp covering the target, right? And like, I had to get them, and the button was right there, sticking out, ready to be hit by the balls." With these words, April began snickering at the suddenly memory of herself and Chelsey in peals of delight as they watched their friend pull off a brave, hilarious feat.
"Oh, my, did you do what I believe you did?" Merry asked, grinning widely. Pippin's eyes were also sparkling with his characteristic curiosity, while Sam and Frodo were merely listening with sober half-smiles on their lips. Aragorn was boiling some more athelas to tend to the ailing Frodo, despite the fact that Frodo seemed to be improving. The Ranger knew from experience in the House of Elrond that sometimes patients seemed to be getting better, but the phase was normally the clam before the storm, and a turn for the worse would occur, killing the patient if left unchecked. He did not want to risk letting his guard down.
"Well, that button was just too tempting. I kind of gave it just a tiny little nudge, and it worked! My teacher fell in! In front of everybody!" Libby was fond of the most public shenanigan she'd executed. For the moment, she remembered the claps and hoots of appreciation at her little stunt. She wished that she still had the gall to pull a scandalous fast one such as at the fair in fifth grade. Those high-fives, pats on the back, and the high register on the laughter scale had been very satisfying.
Merry and Pippin sniggered, wishing that the Libby sitting before them was the gangling eleven-year-old version of the girl she seemed to enjoy talking about, rather than the slightly aloof teenager. And if Libby was slightly distant and secretive, it was nothing compared to the dark- haired girl at her side. Frodo couldn't help but laugh also, remembering the Terror of Brandy Hall, but Sam remained solemn.
"Would you like to hear what I enjoyed doing as a lad?" Frodo asked, the faintest of glimmers of lethargy in his voice which only Aragorn and Sam could discern. "Trespassing onto the property of others. I am very fond of mushrooms, and this one farmer had the best in all the Shire! He was constantly vexed over it, and on the last occasion he got a hold of me and beat me. He has these ferocious dogs, and they chased me quite a ways after he beat me and showed me to them. I missed a good friend over those capers!"
"Hey.. I sneaked onto somebody's farm, too!" Libby said. April straightened up, she'd never heard this before. "I was living in this area of apartments attached to one another called Farmside Gardens, because they were by a farm." April was not enraptured, she had rarely heard Libby speak of the two years she'd lived in that not-so-pleasant neighborhood of River City. She knew that wasn't a memory lapse of hers either, Libby just seemed to have inhibitions of remembering that area. Knowing of police reports she could suddenly recall, April was hardly surprised, theft, arson, and assault were a fact of life in the apartment complex. Farmside Gardens for Libby was April's malevolent Ouija board, usually a form of entertainment at parties, but April's had gone amiss, nearly proving to be her bane. Yet nobody believed her, save a sophomore called Sheila Wagner who'd suffered a similar experience, and possibly Libby, who had been divulging ominous revelations about her own game board recently.
Sam seemed to have a apart of interest at the mention of gardens, but realized that the taller girl probably wouldn't be talking about plants. At other times he would have been just as keen on the stories as Merry and Pippin, but he was too worried about Frodo. He sensed that Frodo might feel worse than he was letting on, and he brushed against Frodo's left hand under the pretenses of examining the blades of grass. The appendage was ice cold and had a grayish pallor. Naturally, this did not alleviate his anxieties. He could hear Libby going on and on, interrupted sometimes by Merry or Pippin. Frodo was merely listening, but not adding to the conversation. That was another sign of something amiss, as Frodo normally liked to be in the thick of things, or at least that was how he had been before things happened. Libby was now talking about peaches.
"I fell in with a bad crowd, I don't mean the harmless prankster like myself or Merry or Pippin, but truly malicious people.. I won't go on about how they weren't good people. I'll just say that we usually snuck onto some old geezer's farm and stole peaches off of his trees. Sometimes we smashed them, other times we ate them or took them with us.. That was the most harmless thing those I misjudged and counted as friends and I did, which should say something." April stared at Libby, making a mental note to ask the blonde to explain exactly how these people really were when they got their complete memories of the past back. She watched her friend stare down at the ground, appearing hesitant to say any more.
"Won't somebody give a bit of some, while the sun is high? We haven't had one of those for days!" Merry said. Libby immediately shrank back, knowing she tended to sing off-key without an accompaniment of music.
"Not since Weathertop," Frodo said without warning. He wanted to convince his friends that he was on the mend, and actually speaking of where he'd been wounded in the first place would be convincing. When six pairs of eyes (two blue-gray, two silver-gray, two hazel, and six brown) turned upon him, Frodo added," Don't worry about me, I feel much better! I don't believe I could sing, though, perhaps Sam could dig something out of his memory?"
Sam indeed was able to excavate a song; a tale of a troll and someone called Tom, who lost a bone to a troll.
"There's a warning to us all, it's a good thing you used a stick, and not your hand, Strider!" Merry chortled, grinning at the Ranger. Pippin, meanwhile, was more interested in the origins of the song.
"How did you get that, Sam?" the inquisitive young hobbit asked. "I've never heard those words before!" April and Libby caught each other's eyes, sharing a sly grin, simultaneously thinking of choice words that their companions had most likely never heard uttered, but shocked the elderly of their life in River City.
Sam muttered something none of his companions could catch, and Frodo answered what he surmised for them. "I am learning a lot about Samwise Gamgee on this expedition! First a conspirator, and now a jester. He'll end up a wizard or a warrior!
"Oh, I hope not," Sam answered passionately, "as I don't want to be neither!" this response spawned more chortles.
In the afternoon the group continued to trek through the woods, following the very track that Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves used many years before, before any save Aragorn had even been born. A few miles on, they finally reached a high bank directly above the road, which was now winding close to the feet of the hills. After Aragorn pointed out a stone covered with runes and they paused briefly to discuss it, they continued onward.
"Evening drew upon them as the seven travelers reached the road. Now that the y no longer had to seek any paths, they went off as quickly as they were able. They merely had to look around for a place off the road to camp for the night.
Before long, a dreaded sound was heard which rekindled trepidation in their hearts: the sound of hoof beats, coming up quickly behind them. Libby shrank to April's side, and the two girls clung to each other's arms, unable to detect anything from merely listening to the sound of a horse's hooves. They quickly scrambled off the road, concealing themselves among hazel bushes. Aragorn lifted Frodo off of Bill and carried the hobbit into the shrubbery, while Sam led Bill to a taller patch in which the pony could conceal itself.
Frodo felt slightly terrified as he crouched within the hazel plants next to Strider, wondering if the Black Riders had come to finish him off in his weakened condition. The mere worry was causing the dark fog to gather again, hindering his vision. He knew that today had been too good to be true, especially in the Trollshaws. As he listened intently to the canter, he suddenly heard a noise as if bells were tingling, and relief.. warm, singing, glorious relief, washed over him. "That doesn't sound like the horse of a Black Rider!" he declared, still listening to the clippity- clops. The others thought he was right, but remained hesitant, a product of having feared pursuit for so many days. Everything unfamiliar now filled them with distrust, their worse fear was a second, worse Weathertop. Aragorn, however, had his ear pressed to the ground, a surprisingly joyous expression on his face.
Author's Note: This chapter has gotten rather long, I'll have the coming of an Elf in chapter seven.. Lucky seven! *grins* I'm sure if you have read my previous commentaries, I expect you've developed the ability to post a review! So, tell me, how many stars? How many thumbs up (or down)? Any suggestions on your part? Should I keep going, or abandon the story? (I fear when I move, I'll be obliged to abandon it at least temporarily.. No Internet access!!) Oh, yes, and if you ever see a book called Unbinding the Stone, by Marc Vunkannon, buy it! My friend and his father the author will thank you. Oops.. I believe I'm already advertising it? Oi, I didn't mean to start.. Oops. Just review, and I'll love you forever! ~^.^~ The longer it is, the better (Kristine, Laura, get your minds out of the gutter!!)
Author's Note: And here's chapter 6! Later chapters temporarily may not come as frequently due to moving to a new house. Chizzy, you'll have to man the post for me at Hogwarts 2020-2021 while I'm moving, packing and unpacking, along with Internet-deprived, and Mel, can you do me a very huge favor and clear any spam or yahoo-groups messages out of my inbox? And Malting and Lissi, if you guys decide to be moderators, you'll get to act as full-fledged admins at the Shire's boarding school, Millborough Hall, while I'm out of commission as an admin! ~^.^~ Yeah, yeah, now that I'm done advertising the RPGs I'll be neglecting from an unknown date to another unknown date, I'm going to take this opportunity to reply to reviewers!
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Yeah, just for a spoiler, it /is/ Glorfindel who is coming, I am remaining true to the books. Aargh... all the movies cut Glorfindel out, in the cartoon it was Legolas instead of Glorfindel. Grr...
Obelia Medusa: You mean you wrote a longer review than usual? Congrats! ~^_^~ Just to let you know, I am currently cooking up a fic concerning a creature created by Sauron who turns on his master. A seed of an idea caused by my friend Jordanna, now I just have to get rid of the writer's block and think up a story to fit it. *makes a face* Writer's block.. the curse of authoring stories.
TrueFan: Whoa, you've really outdone yourself this time! I printed out my entire reviews page.. And you took up one and a third printed pages with that latest review of yours. Congrats, you shattered your own record! By the way, you're a pretty good RPer for a newbie.. You sure Hogwarts 2020- 2021 is your first one? Or are you really good at picking up what the admins want by posts from the admins?
Whoever reviewed "Chapter 6" when it mis-uploaded and only showed the Author's Note *glares at fanfiction.net for making her have to delete a chapter along with the review as so not to risk getting an Infraction Alert*: Thanks for the review! Here's the real installment of Chapter 6.. and seven is already in progress, consisting of the elf's coming to the battle at the Ford of Bruinen
Disclaimer: Meh.. Disclaimers are evil. All standard terms of disclaimers apply to this, as I am not in any way associated with Tolkien besides reading his wonderful books. Not a family member or anything. By the way, speaking of family members of authors, the father of my friend James, Marc Vunkannon, has just published a fantasy! It's called Unbinding the Stone. Expect me to start advertising it when I find out what bookstores it is going to end up in. Hey, what are friends for, right James?
The next day came bright and fair, but with naught but pale light in the rain washed sky. All felt buoyant save Frodo, who hadn't gotten any real rest, just onerous nightmares about endless winged creatures bearing his feared pursuers were flying about seeking him. As soon as it was wholly daylight, Strider went to assess the country, taking Merry with him. Meanwhile, April was trying to rouse Libby, who kept rolling over and mumbling nonsense each time April shook her shoulder or prodded her. Pippin was watching with glee, while Sam was attempting to comfort Frodo, who seemed to be suffering from mounting agony from his Nazgul-inflicted wound.
Pippin couldn't help but smile roguishly to himself as he watched April's futile attempts to fully arouse her stubborn friend. For some reason unknown, Libby was simply refusing to get up, or perhaps she had finally slept contentedly. What Pippin did not know was that though Libby was normally such a heavy sleeper that she could compared to a rock, she required being comfortable with her sleeping-quarters to sleep soundly. When April pulled Libby's hood off her face, the tall blonde merely swatted her hand before resting her head on her arm. A sudden, devious idea came into Pippin's curly haired head. He motioned for April to duck her head so he could whisper his idea into April's ear.
"I think we should dump water on her, that always works. I'm willing to do that in case Libby does anything in retaliation," Pippin hissed into the Asian girl's ear. April smirked and nodded her assent. Pippin smiled more widely, pleased that she was going along with his plot, Pippin felt like reviving the good old days of frivolities. Pippin dipped a cup into the water, which was only lukewarm at the moment, and walked over to the side of the half-asleep blonde. Frodo said something to Sam, who turned around. Pippin was pleased with himself; Frodo had evidently deduced what he was about to do. When April mouthed the signal, Pippin dumped the contents of the cup onto the girl's head.
Libby awoke with a start, giving a earsplitting, high-pitched shriek as something wet and thick suddenly hit the side of her face. Her blue-gray eyes snapped open and, catching sight of April and Pippin beside themselves with mirth, felt a rush of annoyance and amusement simultaneously. She shot up from her bedroll and bopped April up side the head with her hand.
"Ow!" April said, rubbing the side of her head, still chortling. At the same time, Pippin managed to snigger, "I think she's awake now!"
"My God, you two, you're really.." As Libby was about to finish her sentence, Strider came sprinting onto the ridge with Merry. Both had their swords drawn and looked tense. Both had heard Libby's cry, and had feared an ensuing struggle.
Aragorn felt infuriated once he realized that nothing had gone wrong and the scream he and Merry had heard had merely been the product of childish antics. After Pippin and April confessed to have given Libby a rude awakening and Libby admitted that she'd been the source of the cry, Strider angrily reprimanded them, reminding them of the grave peril all, especially Frodo, were still in. "This is neither the place, nor the time, for your irrational high jinks! If the Black Riders had been nearby, they would doubtless have been alerted to our presence by Libby's shriek! Have you forgotten our plight?" he said curtly.
Libby, April, and Pippin all exchanged awkward glances with one another, frightened by Aragorn's fury. At the same tie, all three felt guilty about having risked their lives for idiotic merriment, especially since the injured Frodo was unable to anything and at the same time be devoid of severe agony. Tiny little Pippin shuddered at the thought that he could have alerted Black Riders to their presence, however far off they might have been. Meanwhile, Libby was thinking, I am such an ignoramus sometimes.
"Which way are we going, Mr. Strider?" Sam asked timidly, in a combined attempt to change the subject and to alleviate the tension, which appeared to be upsetting Frodo. The chubby hobbit fixed a blue-eyed gaze on the man, waiting for a response.
Aragorn had been immensely relieved when Merry and he had gone to survey the country. According to his skills when it came to sensing direction, they were now on a more proper road. The Ranger had spotted the Loudwater from the summit at which he and Merry had checked out the area, and although the Road wasn't in his line of vision, the Man now knew that the Road was very nearby. He had finally resolved that hazardous though the Road undoubtedly was, it was the quickest way to the Ford. More and more life was dwindling out of the battered Ring-bearer, and if they tarried for much longer, vainly searching for a passageway in the thick hills, Frodo cease to exist and become exactly like the vile creature which had inflicted the deadly wound upon him. The athelas only somewhat assuaged the pain the hobbit was suffering by day and by night, and it was growing less and less effective as the dark powers of the wound more and more efficiently fought the virtues of the herb.
"We must make for the Road, as it is hopeless to find a path through these hills. Whatever danger may be set upon it, the Road is the only way to the Ford of Bruinen. Speed is our only ally in our plight," Aragorn said. "We are heading in the proper direction now, we are no longer lost in the Wild."
The others were infinitely reassured by Aragorn's news. The road was easier to move along than these ludicrously impassable hills, and they would be able to move more quickly due to the subtracted burden of having to meticulously verify the way they were headed every half-hour or so. Now that the group of companions knew the route in which they were headed for certain, they had earned some essential time. Would it be enough, though, or was it already too late for Frodo? This disheartening reflection was in the minds of all, even Aragorn.
After a quick meal of porridge, the group began to progress again. Frodo was glad that he was heading downwards now, as it wasted a considerably smaller amount of energy than ascending the ill had done. To add to his respite, the slope of the hill was growing very gentle! However, pain was assailing him again, and a mist kept clouding over his eyes, shrouding his eyesight. On one instance, Merry, who was walking in front of him, suddenly seemed to double, and Frodo slowly passed his hands over his eyes, although that small action caused the pain in his left side to mount.
Before long, the land was travelable enough for Frodo to ride Bill again, and Aragorn gently lifted the eldest and tallest of the four hobbits onto the pony, once again dividing up the luggage amongst himself, the younger three hobbits, and the teenaged girls. The only worry at the moment was the packs seemed considerably lighter than when they had set out from Weathertop, as April suddenly observed with dismay and pointed out to Strider. Their provisions were dwindling rapidly.
"I'm afraid there is nothing we can really do, besides take that as yet another incentive to hasten," Aragorn said gently to the worried teenager, patting the Asian-American on the shoulder. "We will merely have to ration our equipment the best we can, April." Aragorn felt his heart sinking slightly, and he fervently hoped that their goods would last until Rivendell. He had not expected to take up with two extra companions en route to his childhood home. April and Libby did seem somewhat useful though, at least as comic relief for the two youngest hobbits. He also sensed that perhaps April and Libby were somewhat wiser for their ages than he'd originally thought, though they were downright incautious to the point of reprimanding from him at times.
April accepted Aragorn's words with a small nod, readjusting the weight of her bookbag on her aching shoulders. Her muscles had been sore for the past days, although the discomfort was now alleviating as she grew used to bearing a burden. All the same, she was worried about the food running low. The small fifteen-year-old (or was she now sixteen? As soon as nineteen days from October sixth passed, she would have been alive sixteen years. Apparently in this place, her birthday was October 25th, while Libby's birthday would be exactly sixth months later, or April 6th) tucked a few stray strands of black hair behind her left ear, and watched the smallest hobbit, Pippin, drawing further and further ahead of the others.
Suddenly, the youngest hobbit stopped short, drew in his breath with joy, and turned around. He had spotted the beginnings of a path, littered with stones and fallen trees at some points. "There is a path here!" Pippin shouted excitedly, pleased with himself. He stood rooted to the spot, waiting for the others to catch up to him.
Libby took off at a sprint, eager to see what Pippin was indicating. April was following close behind her friend, while Sam, Merry, and Aragorn remained walking, Aragorn leading Bill, who was bearing the injured Frodo, along. Frodo looked up from his perch on the pony's back, his blue eyes seeming to come back into focus.
"What is it. AARGH!" The strap of Libby's handbag ripped, and the denim bag, with its contents of food, fell to the ground with a thud. "Of all the pains in the ass.." She shoved the spilled containers, which thankfully had not burst, back into the bag and began running again. April stooped to pick up one her older friend had accidentally left behind.
When the others had reached the smallest of the company, who was pointing, they saw that the tweenaged hobbit was indeed correct: the unmistakable beginnings of a path, offering an easy way downwards.
"Sorry Aragorn.. I didn't notice my bag was beginning to rip," Libby mumbled shamefacedly, chewing on her lip.
"No harm was done, you're forgiven," Aragorn answered. He just hoped that the girl would be able to carry her bag now that the strap was useless. By the looks of it, Libby would have to clasp it against her body with both arms for the remainder of the journey, or until they had somehow mended the strap.
The group cautiously followed the footpath, growing apprehensive as it led into a dark wooded area. Suddenly, they came upon an enormous door, almost twice the height of Libby and even Aragorn, and it was ajar upon one hinge. The company halted, realizing that there was some sort of chamber within, but because of the darkness of the forest, nothing could be seen from outside. Sam, Aragorn, and Merry managed to heave the door open a little wider, using all of their physical strength, and Aragorn and Merry squeezed inside, leaving the other five waiting.
Pippin shifted his weight uneasily, trying to figure out what creature would inhabit a hole with such a gargantuan entrance. Suddenly, an idea hit him, causing him to give an involuntary quiver of fear. His hazel eyes darted around, half-expecting to spot an infuriated troll advancing upon him, and then he called, "If there was ever a troll-hole, this is it! Come on out, and let us get away/ Now we know what made this path, and we ought to get off it quick!" The youngest of the hobbits worriedly looked up and down the path again, and then around at the companions waiting outside with him. Frodo sat unmoved, but Sam, April, and Libby all looked alarmed.
Aragorn squeezed back out through the crack, followed by Merry. He was adamant despite the hobbit's concerns, knowing from his brief observation that trolls were not an impending doom at the moment. "There is no need, I think. A troll-hole this unquestionably is, but it seems long abandoned. Let us maintain our course guardedly, and we shall see."
The seven companions went on, continuing along the path, which was now plunging down to an even thicker wooded area. Pippin was still afraid, but didn't wish to own up to his cowardice, and went on ahead with Merry. Libby and April were about thirty or forty feet behind them, and Sam, Aragorn, and Bill carrying Frodo took up the rear.
"Mer, exactly what was inside that.. Oh, no." Pippin blanched as his hazel eyes caught sight of three vast black shapes dwarfing himself and Merry at least three or four times, not too far ahead through the thick tree trunks. He wiped his sweaty hands against his trousers, and asked, with a cracking tone, "Do you see what I think I see?"
Merry's brown eyes looked in the direction Pippin was specifying, and he too felt a thrill of absolute dread. "Run! We've got to warn Strider and the others!" the older hobbit squeaked.
Pippin didn't need telling twice. He immediately did an about-face and went sprinting back towards Strider, Merry following close behind. As they passed Libby and April, he heard Merry gasp, "Follow us!" and then the feet of the two girls thudding along behind them with a racket typical of the Big People.
"There are trolls," Pippin panted, clutching at a stitch in his side. "Down in a clearing not far below, we saw them through the tree trunks! They're huge! I knew there were trolls here!"
Aragorn picked up a stick, inwardly amused. All the same, he was glad that Peregrin had some sense of danger, small though it was. This time, he knew that Pippin was mistaken, but the young hobbit was being unusually wary today. "We will come and look at them. The Ranger strode forward, after noting that Frodo was the only one who hadn't shown any sign of fright. Aragorn didn't know what to make of this. Did Frodo remember that one simple fact about trolls, or was his wound bothering him so appallingly that he was beginning to become apathetic, no longer wishing to live? Aragorn made a mental note to tend to the brave Ring-bearer and ask how Frodo felt after he had shown that the trolls were stone. The tall man decided that the group could rest in that glade in the Trollshaws, and possibly reminisce about Bilbo's adventures almost eighty years before. All would certainly be interested, particularly the two girls, unfamiliar with any of their customs an clueless to the extent of the peril they were all in. Aragorn was beginning to consider telling them about the Ring, but he decided, that is not for me to decide, nor am I a hundred percent sure of their worth, though they seem trustworthy. Aragorn glanced upwards at the sun, now high in the sky, as he led the others on towards the glade.
The group halted on the edge of the glade with abated breath, peering through the thick tree trunks at the massive silhouettes of three trolls. One was stooping for something, while the other two had their gazes fixed on the first.
Aragorn strode right into the glade nonchalantly, hitting the stooping troll with a powerful wallop which caused the stick to break in two, while saying, "Get up, you old stone!" Nothing else to speak of occurred as a result.
The others gasped with wonder, and then all the hobbits, even Frodo, laughed. "Well, I'll be!" the eldest of the four hobbits said. Straightening on Bill with newfound vigor. "We are forgetting our family history! These must be the exact three caught by Gandalf, quarreling over how to cook thirteen dwarves and one small hobbit!" He pushed himself up with his good arm to squint closer at the trolls, surprised to note that his pain seemed to be trivial.. for the moment. April and Libby exchanged baffled glances with one another.
"I had no idea we were near the place, Strider!" Pippin said, who knew the story well but had never more than half believed it. His hazel eyes were focused on the trolls with a doubtful skepticism, wondering if they would suddenly spring to life again.
Aragorn half-smiled as he took note of the young hobbit's misgivings, and also the puzzlement of the two girls. "You are forgetting not only your family history, but all you ever knew about trolls.," Strider said, sounding amused. "It is midday with san exceptionally bright sun, yet you two come back trying to scare me with a tale of live trolls waiting here for us! In any case you might have noticed that this one has a birds nest behind his ear, that would be a most unusual ornament for a live troll!"
They all burst out laughing, even Libby and April, who got this jest by Strider. It was a relief knowing that this Strider, who was usually so tense and stern, had a sense of humor. The two teenagers grinned at each other, liking this newfound side of the man.
Frodo, meanwhile, felt his morale reviving, it was cheering to be reminded of Bilbo's first success in his many adventures. The sun was warm and a source of comfort, and the mist shrouding his vision seemed to be clearing, and he could see the faces of his friends more clearly. Strider announced that they could have a brief rest in the glade, and they had the mid-day meal right in the shade of the enormous trolls.
"That's a very interesting tale!" April declared when Frodo had given a brief recap of his uncle Bilbo and the adventure with these very trolls. The Asian-American girl idly braided a few small strands of her hair, smiling at the hobbit. "Feel free to tell more when you feel up to it." April took another bite out of her apple. She was glad to see than even Frodo was managing to eat somewhat normally, the hobbit seemed to be enjoying the apple and stewed rabbit Strider had served. She and Libby weren't accustomed to eating such animals as rabbits, but here in the wilderness the unusual food was quite satisfactory.
"What of where you two are from? We haven't heard much from you save the tale of Libby's cat prank," Pippin said, hoping to hear of more caper of a younger Libby, or April's jokes.
"Well.." April began, trying to get the faintest inkling of a story of either herself or Libby. "What can I say? She had no regards of rules regarding being quiet as a little kid, and she's never been much on punctuality, I must say. Oh! I think I remembered something.. To the words school fair mean anything to you, Libberoni?"
Merry laughed at this latest variant on Libby's name; April certainly seemed to adore giving her friend nicknames. So far, he could remember Libbers, the Libster, and now Libberoni. "If this is another joke I want to hear it!"
Libby smiled, fondly remembering that April seemed to be referring to. Before Liberty could lose this recollection, she plunged into the tale. "At the fair they had this booth where if you throw something and hit a red target, you knock the person sitting in the booth into a pool of water. My teacher was the one in the chair."
"Don't tell me your aim was true and you struck the target," Pippin said with enthusiasm, enthralled by the description of the pool. He could think of a few choice individuals back in the Shire who he would dearly yearn to knock into water, preferably the Brandywine!
"Even better," Libby said, a devious smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "I am actually totally uncoordinated, as I'm surprised you didn't figure out by now, Pip. I missed the target. But I did get him."
"Aww," Pippin said, wondering what the climax of Libby's little glimmer of memory would be. He felt slightly foolish, he had known that Libby had a rather poor aim whenever she attempted to throw things.
"Well, if you missed, you had to get the balls when you finished your turn. I like, went to get mine. The balls hard hit the tarp covering the target, right? And like, I had to get them, and the button was right there, sticking out, ready to be hit by the balls." With these words, April began snickering at the suddenly memory of herself and Chelsey in peals of delight as they watched their friend pull off a brave, hilarious feat.
"Oh, my, did you do what I believe you did?" Merry asked, grinning widely. Pippin's eyes were also sparkling with his characteristic curiosity, while Sam and Frodo were merely listening with sober half-smiles on their lips. Aragorn was boiling some more athelas to tend to the ailing Frodo, despite the fact that Frodo seemed to be improving. The Ranger knew from experience in the House of Elrond that sometimes patients seemed to be getting better, but the phase was normally the clam before the storm, and a turn for the worse would occur, killing the patient if left unchecked. He did not want to risk letting his guard down.
"Well, that button was just too tempting. I kind of gave it just a tiny little nudge, and it worked! My teacher fell in! In front of everybody!" Libby was fond of the most public shenanigan she'd executed. For the moment, she remembered the claps and hoots of appreciation at her little stunt. She wished that she still had the gall to pull a scandalous fast one such as at the fair in fifth grade. Those high-fives, pats on the back, and the high register on the laughter scale had been very satisfying.
Merry and Pippin sniggered, wishing that the Libby sitting before them was the gangling eleven-year-old version of the girl she seemed to enjoy talking about, rather than the slightly aloof teenager. And if Libby was slightly distant and secretive, it was nothing compared to the dark- haired girl at her side. Frodo couldn't help but laugh also, remembering the Terror of Brandy Hall, but Sam remained solemn.
"Would you like to hear what I enjoyed doing as a lad?" Frodo asked, the faintest of glimmers of lethargy in his voice which only Aragorn and Sam could discern. "Trespassing onto the property of others. I am very fond of mushrooms, and this one farmer had the best in all the Shire! He was constantly vexed over it, and on the last occasion he got a hold of me and beat me. He has these ferocious dogs, and they chased me quite a ways after he beat me and showed me to them. I missed a good friend over those capers!"
"Hey.. I sneaked onto somebody's farm, too!" Libby said. April straightened up, she'd never heard this before. "I was living in this area of apartments attached to one another called Farmside Gardens, because they were by a farm." April was not enraptured, she had rarely heard Libby speak of the two years she'd lived in that not-so-pleasant neighborhood of River City. She knew that wasn't a memory lapse of hers either, Libby just seemed to have inhibitions of remembering that area. Knowing of police reports she could suddenly recall, April was hardly surprised, theft, arson, and assault were a fact of life in the apartment complex. Farmside Gardens for Libby was April's malevolent Ouija board, usually a form of entertainment at parties, but April's had gone amiss, nearly proving to be her bane. Yet nobody believed her, save a sophomore called Sheila Wagner who'd suffered a similar experience, and possibly Libby, who had been divulging ominous revelations about her own game board recently.
Sam seemed to have a apart of interest at the mention of gardens, but realized that the taller girl probably wouldn't be talking about plants. At other times he would have been just as keen on the stories as Merry and Pippin, but he was too worried about Frodo. He sensed that Frodo might feel worse than he was letting on, and he brushed against Frodo's left hand under the pretenses of examining the blades of grass. The appendage was ice cold and had a grayish pallor. Naturally, this did not alleviate his anxieties. He could hear Libby going on and on, interrupted sometimes by Merry or Pippin. Frodo was merely listening, but not adding to the conversation. That was another sign of something amiss, as Frodo normally liked to be in the thick of things, or at least that was how he had been before things happened. Libby was now talking about peaches.
"I fell in with a bad crowd, I don't mean the harmless prankster like myself or Merry or Pippin, but truly malicious people.. I won't go on about how they weren't good people. I'll just say that we usually snuck onto some old geezer's farm and stole peaches off of his trees. Sometimes we smashed them, other times we ate them or took them with us.. That was the most harmless thing those I misjudged and counted as friends and I did, which should say something." April stared at Libby, making a mental note to ask the blonde to explain exactly how these people really were when they got their complete memories of the past back. She watched her friend stare down at the ground, appearing hesitant to say any more.
"Won't somebody give a bit of some, while the sun is high? We haven't had one of those for days!" Merry said. Libby immediately shrank back, knowing she tended to sing off-key without an accompaniment of music.
"Not since Weathertop," Frodo said without warning. He wanted to convince his friends that he was on the mend, and actually speaking of where he'd been wounded in the first place would be convincing. When six pairs of eyes (two blue-gray, two silver-gray, two hazel, and six brown) turned upon him, Frodo added," Don't worry about me, I feel much better! I don't believe I could sing, though, perhaps Sam could dig something out of his memory?"
Sam indeed was able to excavate a song; a tale of a troll and someone called Tom, who lost a bone to a troll.
"There's a warning to us all, it's a good thing you used a stick, and not your hand, Strider!" Merry chortled, grinning at the Ranger. Pippin, meanwhile, was more interested in the origins of the song.
"How did you get that, Sam?" the inquisitive young hobbit asked. "I've never heard those words before!" April and Libby caught each other's eyes, sharing a sly grin, simultaneously thinking of choice words that their companions had most likely never heard uttered, but shocked the elderly of their life in River City.
Sam muttered something none of his companions could catch, and Frodo answered what he surmised for them. "I am learning a lot about Samwise Gamgee on this expedition! First a conspirator, and now a jester. He'll end up a wizard or a warrior!
"Oh, I hope not," Sam answered passionately, "as I don't want to be neither!" this response spawned more chortles.
In the afternoon the group continued to trek through the woods, following the very track that Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves used many years before, before any save Aragorn had even been born. A few miles on, they finally reached a high bank directly above the road, which was now winding close to the feet of the hills. After Aragorn pointed out a stone covered with runes and they paused briefly to discuss it, they continued onward.
"Evening drew upon them as the seven travelers reached the road. Now that the y no longer had to seek any paths, they went off as quickly as they were able. They merely had to look around for a place off the road to camp for the night.
Before long, a dreaded sound was heard which rekindled trepidation in their hearts: the sound of hoof beats, coming up quickly behind them. Libby shrank to April's side, and the two girls clung to each other's arms, unable to detect anything from merely listening to the sound of a horse's hooves. They quickly scrambled off the road, concealing themselves among hazel bushes. Aragorn lifted Frodo off of Bill and carried the hobbit into the shrubbery, while Sam led Bill to a taller patch in which the pony could conceal itself.
Frodo felt slightly terrified as he crouched within the hazel plants next to Strider, wondering if the Black Riders had come to finish him off in his weakened condition. The mere worry was causing the dark fog to gather again, hindering his vision. He knew that today had been too good to be true, especially in the Trollshaws. As he listened intently to the canter, he suddenly heard a noise as if bells were tingling, and relief.. warm, singing, glorious relief, washed over him. "That doesn't sound like the horse of a Black Rider!" he declared, still listening to the clippity- clops. The others thought he was right, but remained hesitant, a product of having feared pursuit for so many days. Everything unfamiliar now filled them with distrust, their worse fear was a second, worse Weathertop. Aragorn, however, had his ear pressed to the ground, a surprisingly joyous expression on his face.
Author's Note: This chapter has gotten rather long, I'll have the coming of an Elf in chapter seven.. Lucky seven! *grins* I'm sure if you have read my previous commentaries, I expect you've developed the ability to post a review! So, tell me, how many stars? How many thumbs up (or down)? Any suggestions on your part? Should I keep going, or abandon the story? (I fear when I move, I'll be obliged to abandon it at least temporarily.. No Internet access!!) Oh, yes, and if you ever see a book called Unbinding the Stone, by Marc Vunkannon, buy it! My friend and his father the author will thank you. Oops.. I believe I'm already advertising it? Oi, I didn't mean to start.. Oops. Just review, and I'll love you forever! ~^.^~ The longer it is, the better (Kristine, Laura, get your minds out of the gutter!!)
