Nine Little Ring Bearers
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Chapter 12
The same night, when Frodo and Sam had looked into the mirror of Galadriel, the Fellowship was summoned to a council. With a weary voice the Lady of the Woods told them that the time had come for them to continue their journey. The night before her words would have made the hobbits miserable, but now they received them without any expressions. The visions in the mirror had forced them to go on and try to fulfil their quest. Actually their journey seemed now lighter than before. The dangers seemed to been left behind.
Equipped by a grey elven boat, light ropes and elven hoods and cloaks to help them hide unfriendly eyes, the company set on. They bid the Galadhrim farewell in the morning dusk, the white swan boat of Galadriel slowly gliding apart from them. The tall trees of Lóthlorien passed away from the reach of their eyes, and they were alone again.
Aragorn held the paddle, but he did only rarely any movements to move their boat. The stream pushed the boat onwards and Aragorn was unwilling to part from the calming woods any faster. Though he was not in a dark mood. The sun peeping through the lowering trees on the river coast made them all almost cheerful.
"Oh," in the stern of the boat sitting Sam sighed, and the others turned to look at him inquiring. "You know what she gave to me?" he continued proudly. "A box. A beautiful box full of the softest soil I've ever touched," he answered slowly, enjoying of the memory. "The soil of her woods. It will make all the flowers, where ever you set them, grow fast."
"She evidently saw, that you have the talent to use the soil to the best purposes," Aragorn said and smiled, raising the spirits of the gardener hobbit even higher.
"I will make the whole Hobbiton as beautiful as Lóthlorien is!" Sam got excited. "I will have the trees of silver and gold and. . ."
"As beautiful as Lóthlorien is," Aragorn interrupted him. He stared straight ahead to the small circling waves of the river and turned grave. "They will remind everyone of Lóthlorien. And it shall not be forgotten. . ."
Sam stared puzzled to Strider. Frodo understood what their sometimes so strange seeming friend had spoken, but had a more dimmer thought in own his mind. "You seem to suppose, Sam, that we'll be back home soon." Now Sam turned his eyes at his master, whom he had believed already having set aside the pessimistic ideas. "I am not that certain," Frodo continued. "That we would get home at all."
Just being delighted with the gift and the sunshine Sam felt Frodo's words aching heavily. He fought back the tears just by attacking too with words. "No!" he shouted. "You heard what Galadriel spoke. Boromir is dead and now we'll be safe. And however terrified we are, we have to complete our task." Sam could not speak angrily to Frodo for long and he ended: "And to go home." Tears filled his eyes.
Aragorn drew his look away from the waves. The unexpected fight between the hobbits had woken him from his memories. "Calm down, Sam," he tried. "Frodo is partly right. We are all the time closer to Mordor. The servants of the enemy have started haunting our steps. This is where our obstacles really begin," he concluded watching the eastern shore of the river. Frodo bent scared his darkening face also under the trees and seemed to be seeing something.
Sam looked his companions faithlessly and told disapprovingly to Aragorn: "How encouraging! Your attitude will truly help us to go on." He meant to stop but had to add a remark sarcastically. "But no, I was wrong, you are so wise, Strider. Maybe the orcs will think we are dead and pass us if we just lay on the ground and pretend we really are dead. Or then," Sam threw a sharp look at Frodo, who still stared the shore with suspicion. "They will find a good, pre-killed meal in us."
* * * The company rested for one night on the shores of the great river Anduin and continued next morning. They did not speak to each other almost at all, though it worried neither Aragorn nor Frodo. They seemed to be contented in their own thoughts, just letting the river push them onwards. But Sam was irritated about the silence. He tried to make the others notice him by sighing deeply and poorly and kept turning around uneasy. But his attempts did not change anything, Aragorn and Frodo sat still and enjoyed a moment's peace.
In the evening Aragorn led the boat again to the shore and pulled it onto dry land. They could not travel in the darkness, the river might be perilous. They laid their few packages under some small trees, which still grew in the region they were. The further south they travelled, the fewer trees there lived.
"I am taking the first watch," Aragorn said while he drew his cloak tighter on him. "Go to sleep," he bid the hobbits.
Frodo laid himself to the ground and closed his eyes immediately but Sam was still standing up. "Are we not going to light a fire?" he asked with an authoritative tone of voice.
Aragorn looked at him inquiring. "But we didn't have a fire yesterday either," he told Sam determinedly. "It is no use."
"But I feel cold," Sam did not give up.
Aragorn shook his head. "These trees are short and wet. They won't burn well." He was getting angry at the stubborn hobbit. "Go to sleep, so that we can go on tomorrow."
"Look at him," Sam pointed anxious at Frodo who tried desperately to sleep. "The ground is cold," he raised his voice. "Do you want us to get sick?"
For many seconds there was a silence, when Sam and Aragorn stared at each other. Then Aragorn turned around and started walking towards some groups of trees further away from the river. "You two stay right were you are," he yelled without even looking behind his back to the hobbits.
Sam gazed after Aragorn until he could not see him or hear his steps anymore. "Thinks that he can make us do whatever he wants," Sam murmured to himself.
Frodo gathered his blanket better on him. "Go to sleep Sam. He will take care of the fire," he whispered tired.
"He takes good care of everything else too," Sam spoke now to Frodo, who was forced to rise to sit. "He tells us where to go, when to sleep. . ." Sam listed dimly. "He has planned everything so carefully that I start to feel that we are not the ones he in reality cares about." Sam cast a meaningful look at Frodo.
Frodo looked terrified at his friend, who stood in front of him hands crossed and with a stern expression on his face. "You don't really mean that Sam, do you?" Frodo asked unsure. "I think he has been very loyal whole our journey. He has sacrificed his life for us!" he tried to assure Sam. "And Gandalf trusted to him. . ." he ended, the grief memory of Gandalf hurting him.
"True," Sam suddenly laughed shortly. "Gandalf trusted to him and look what happened! No help from our faithful Strider when Gandalf was in danger." He lowered himself beside Frodo to the ground and whispered. "Haven't you noticed? The way he's always buried in his own secret thoughts and then abruptly he wakes up and says something strange. And the way he looks at you all the time. . ." Frodo raised slowly his hand, grabbing the chain hanging on his neck, but carefully listening Sam's words. "I'm sure he wants the Ring to himself," Sam judged.
Frodo seemed to be very uncertain about what to think. "But still, I cannot believe it. . . He may want it, but because his wisdom he knows that he cannot take it," Frodo was trying to find an explanation for the problem. "I see know reason why we should fear him," he decided.
Sam was getting annoyed. "No reason why we should fear him?!" he almost screamed. "But can't you see?" he continued imploring. "He has killed all the others, and next he will kill us! We have much to fear him for."
"No, no, Sam," Frodo shook determinedly his head. "Don't you remember? Even Lady Galadriel saw that the murderer was Boromir. And to her I trust."
Sam tried to calm down. "And she may be right," he admitted. "But she didn't say it was Boromir alone." When he heard these words Frodo's eyes widened. "For Minas Tirith, for Gondor. And for the race of men," Sam went on. "They did it together." Frodo tried to oppose him but Sam still continued: "Aragorn did not want us to light a fire now. Easier for him to get rid of us if we are sick! And isn't it strange that he left us here alone? One of us could kill the other! But no. He knows that the murderer is away, for it is him."
Frodo held the chain on his neck very tightly and desperately. "But why?" he cried.
Sam smiled faintly when at last he had been believed. "He is the heir of Isildur. The same weak blood flows in his veins."
"We can't travel onwards with him," Frodo yelled. "We'll be dead before we depart from this river!" He had become hysterical.
"No we can't," Sam said abnormally confidently. "But I have a plan." Frodo turned to look at Sam, who smiled faintly. "Tomorrow," he started very quietly. "When we are on the river again, you fake that you stagger and almost fell to the water. Then Aragorn has to try to save you. And then," he held a pause. "We push him off from the boat."
Frodo stared at Sam in shock. "You mean to kill him! No, I don't want. . ." he resisted.
"We won't kill him!" Sam explained quickly. "We'll just. . . delay him. He'll be able to swim to the shore, but he won't be able to follow us, at least for a long time. And by then, we and the Ring will be too far away," he ended satisfied. Frodo nodded thoughtfully, but spoke nothing. "Now we must lay ourselves down and pretend that we sleep," Sam instructed Frodo and crept under his own blanket. "But must not really fall asleep."
After a short time Aragorn returned, his arms full of the driest wood he could find. He lit the fire in silence, carefully not to wake up the hobbits, who seemed to be sound asleep.
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I didn't kill anyone in this chapter either! I guess I'm just becoming nice. . . No, no, just kidding!
My story draws near its end and now I BEG for reviews! Please, please, please. . . I'm desperate.
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Chapter 12
The same night, when Frodo and Sam had looked into the mirror of Galadriel, the Fellowship was summoned to a council. With a weary voice the Lady of the Woods told them that the time had come for them to continue their journey. The night before her words would have made the hobbits miserable, but now they received them without any expressions. The visions in the mirror had forced them to go on and try to fulfil their quest. Actually their journey seemed now lighter than before. The dangers seemed to been left behind.
Equipped by a grey elven boat, light ropes and elven hoods and cloaks to help them hide unfriendly eyes, the company set on. They bid the Galadhrim farewell in the morning dusk, the white swan boat of Galadriel slowly gliding apart from them. The tall trees of Lóthlorien passed away from the reach of their eyes, and they were alone again.
Aragorn held the paddle, but he did only rarely any movements to move their boat. The stream pushed the boat onwards and Aragorn was unwilling to part from the calming woods any faster. Though he was not in a dark mood. The sun peeping through the lowering trees on the river coast made them all almost cheerful.
"Oh," in the stern of the boat sitting Sam sighed, and the others turned to look at him inquiring. "You know what she gave to me?" he continued proudly. "A box. A beautiful box full of the softest soil I've ever touched," he answered slowly, enjoying of the memory. "The soil of her woods. It will make all the flowers, where ever you set them, grow fast."
"She evidently saw, that you have the talent to use the soil to the best purposes," Aragorn said and smiled, raising the spirits of the gardener hobbit even higher.
"I will make the whole Hobbiton as beautiful as Lóthlorien is!" Sam got excited. "I will have the trees of silver and gold and. . ."
"As beautiful as Lóthlorien is," Aragorn interrupted him. He stared straight ahead to the small circling waves of the river and turned grave. "They will remind everyone of Lóthlorien. And it shall not be forgotten. . ."
Sam stared puzzled to Strider. Frodo understood what their sometimes so strange seeming friend had spoken, but had a more dimmer thought in own his mind. "You seem to suppose, Sam, that we'll be back home soon." Now Sam turned his eyes at his master, whom he had believed already having set aside the pessimistic ideas. "I am not that certain," Frodo continued. "That we would get home at all."
Just being delighted with the gift and the sunshine Sam felt Frodo's words aching heavily. He fought back the tears just by attacking too with words. "No!" he shouted. "You heard what Galadriel spoke. Boromir is dead and now we'll be safe. And however terrified we are, we have to complete our task." Sam could not speak angrily to Frodo for long and he ended: "And to go home." Tears filled his eyes.
Aragorn drew his look away from the waves. The unexpected fight between the hobbits had woken him from his memories. "Calm down, Sam," he tried. "Frodo is partly right. We are all the time closer to Mordor. The servants of the enemy have started haunting our steps. This is where our obstacles really begin," he concluded watching the eastern shore of the river. Frodo bent scared his darkening face also under the trees and seemed to be seeing something.
Sam looked his companions faithlessly and told disapprovingly to Aragorn: "How encouraging! Your attitude will truly help us to go on." He meant to stop but had to add a remark sarcastically. "But no, I was wrong, you are so wise, Strider. Maybe the orcs will think we are dead and pass us if we just lay on the ground and pretend we really are dead. Or then," Sam threw a sharp look at Frodo, who still stared the shore with suspicion. "They will find a good, pre-killed meal in us."
* * * The company rested for one night on the shores of the great river Anduin and continued next morning. They did not speak to each other almost at all, though it worried neither Aragorn nor Frodo. They seemed to be contented in their own thoughts, just letting the river push them onwards. But Sam was irritated about the silence. He tried to make the others notice him by sighing deeply and poorly and kept turning around uneasy. But his attempts did not change anything, Aragorn and Frodo sat still and enjoyed a moment's peace.
In the evening Aragorn led the boat again to the shore and pulled it onto dry land. They could not travel in the darkness, the river might be perilous. They laid their few packages under some small trees, which still grew in the region they were. The further south they travelled, the fewer trees there lived.
"I am taking the first watch," Aragorn said while he drew his cloak tighter on him. "Go to sleep," he bid the hobbits.
Frodo laid himself to the ground and closed his eyes immediately but Sam was still standing up. "Are we not going to light a fire?" he asked with an authoritative tone of voice.
Aragorn looked at him inquiring. "But we didn't have a fire yesterday either," he told Sam determinedly. "It is no use."
"But I feel cold," Sam did not give up.
Aragorn shook his head. "These trees are short and wet. They won't burn well." He was getting angry at the stubborn hobbit. "Go to sleep, so that we can go on tomorrow."
"Look at him," Sam pointed anxious at Frodo who tried desperately to sleep. "The ground is cold," he raised his voice. "Do you want us to get sick?"
For many seconds there was a silence, when Sam and Aragorn stared at each other. Then Aragorn turned around and started walking towards some groups of trees further away from the river. "You two stay right were you are," he yelled without even looking behind his back to the hobbits.
Sam gazed after Aragorn until he could not see him or hear his steps anymore. "Thinks that he can make us do whatever he wants," Sam murmured to himself.
Frodo gathered his blanket better on him. "Go to sleep Sam. He will take care of the fire," he whispered tired.
"He takes good care of everything else too," Sam spoke now to Frodo, who was forced to rise to sit. "He tells us where to go, when to sleep. . ." Sam listed dimly. "He has planned everything so carefully that I start to feel that we are not the ones he in reality cares about." Sam cast a meaningful look at Frodo.
Frodo looked terrified at his friend, who stood in front of him hands crossed and with a stern expression on his face. "You don't really mean that Sam, do you?" Frodo asked unsure. "I think he has been very loyal whole our journey. He has sacrificed his life for us!" he tried to assure Sam. "And Gandalf trusted to him. . ." he ended, the grief memory of Gandalf hurting him.
"True," Sam suddenly laughed shortly. "Gandalf trusted to him and look what happened! No help from our faithful Strider when Gandalf was in danger." He lowered himself beside Frodo to the ground and whispered. "Haven't you noticed? The way he's always buried in his own secret thoughts and then abruptly he wakes up and says something strange. And the way he looks at you all the time. . ." Frodo raised slowly his hand, grabbing the chain hanging on his neck, but carefully listening Sam's words. "I'm sure he wants the Ring to himself," Sam judged.
Frodo seemed to be very uncertain about what to think. "But still, I cannot believe it. . . He may want it, but because his wisdom he knows that he cannot take it," Frodo was trying to find an explanation for the problem. "I see know reason why we should fear him," he decided.
Sam was getting annoyed. "No reason why we should fear him?!" he almost screamed. "But can't you see?" he continued imploring. "He has killed all the others, and next he will kill us! We have much to fear him for."
"No, no, Sam," Frodo shook determinedly his head. "Don't you remember? Even Lady Galadriel saw that the murderer was Boromir. And to her I trust."
Sam tried to calm down. "And she may be right," he admitted. "But she didn't say it was Boromir alone." When he heard these words Frodo's eyes widened. "For Minas Tirith, for Gondor. And for the race of men," Sam went on. "They did it together." Frodo tried to oppose him but Sam still continued: "Aragorn did not want us to light a fire now. Easier for him to get rid of us if we are sick! And isn't it strange that he left us here alone? One of us could kill the other! But no. He knows that the murderer is away, for it is him."
Frodo held the chain on his neck very tightly and desperately. "But why?" he cried.
Sam smiled faintly when at last he had been believed. "He is the heir of Isildur. The same weak blood flows in his veins."
"We can't travel onwards with him," Frodo yelled. "We'll be dead before we depart from this river!" He had become hysterical.
"No we can't," Sam said abnormally confidently. "But I have a plan." Frodo turned to look at Sam, who smiled faintly. "Tomorrow," he started very quietly. "When we are on the river again, you fake that you stagger and almost fell to the water. Then Aragorn has to try to save you. And then," he held a pause. "We push him off from the boat."
Frodo stared at Sam in shock. "You mean to kill him! No, I don't want. . ." he resisted.
"We won't kill him!" Sam explained quickly. "We'll just. . . delay him. He'll be able to swim to the shore, but he won't be able to follow us, at least for a long time. And by then, we and the Ring will be too far away," he ended satisfied. Frodo nodded thoughtfully, but spoke nothing. "Now we must lay ourselves down and pretend that we sleep," Sam instructed Frodo and crept under his own blanket. "But must not really fall asleep."
After a short time Aragorn returned, his arms full of the driest wood he could find. He lit the fire in silence, carefully not to wake up the hobbits, who seemed to be sound asleep.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^
I didn't kill anyone in this chapter either! I guess I'm just becoming nice. . . No, no, just kidding!
My story draws near its end and now I BEG for reviews! Please, please, please. . . I'm desperate.
