Disclaimer: Despite my many attempts to steal Merry and Pippin from Tolkien, I have surrendered to defeat, and therefore must love the hobbits from afar.
Chapter One
It was an ordinary day. For me, at least. I'm not sure if you would consider flying in your private plane normal, but I'd been doing it nearly every weekday evening for three years now.
My job is a secretary for my father, who's a lawyer. I saved all my earning for years to get "The Blackbird" which is the name of my plane. Aviation is my passion, see. I've always loved flying and- I'll get back to my story.
Anyway, it was a normal day, and I'd been airborn for about twenty minutes. The clouds were all white and fluffy-like, usually the kind you find shapes in. I was dipping in and out of them, deciding what I should think about.
I settled on Middle Earth, the location of my favorite fantasy. I was thinking of Lothlorien when I found a cloud ring forming on the side of a particularly large cloud. Those are usually rare, but I always enjoy flying through them. It wasn't very big, indeed, it seemed to be shrinking rapidly. I accelerated the plane, and, still thinking about Lord of the Rings, flew through it.
When I reached the other side a moment later, I knew something was wrong. For one, the ground below me no longer held streets and suburbs. Instead, there were forests and streams. For another thing, my plane instantly disappeared, which isn't really a desirable thing if your pushing two thousand feet above ground.
I did what any being would do. I sank like a rock. The world came closer. My end was near, I knew it. Quickly praying for God to take my soul, I closed my eyes and waited to become a human pancake.
However, that didn't happen. It seemed as though I was slowing down. I opened my eyes once again, and saw the ground gradually meeting me. I tumbled clumsily to the ground, but I was alive. I nearly cried with relief, but then looked around me.
Eighteen eyes were staring at me. I was surrounded by strange people all wearing odd clothes. They almost lookedlike they were dressed as...
"No." I whispered, looking hard at a man with light brown hair, with a horn at his side.
"Who are you?" Demanded a voice behind me. I twisted around and saw a man in grey robes with a pointy hat.
"Eleanor Quame." I replied, still trying to make sense of this. When I went through the cloud ring, it transported me to Middle Earth. But that was absurd, yet here I was, with four very short young men (one of whom was holding the lead of a pony) whose large feet were definately not prosthetics.
"Dark magic." came a gruff voice to my right. I glanced and saw the dwarf, glaring at me.
"Where did you come from?" asked the elf standing beside Gimli.
"Cherailles, Vermont." I answered truthfully. Legolas narrowed his eyes, "I saw you fall from the sky. We all did. Speak the truth!"
There was a murmur of agreements. I looked around hopefully, but saw only hard stares in return.
"I was flying, and then I fell." I said bluntly.
"Just as I said, dark magic." growled Gimli.
"Look, I'm just as confused as you are all." I stated, climbing to my feet. Merry took a step back, looking wide eyed at me.
"Let us forget this wench, and continue the quest." Boromir barked. The others nodded. I stood there, feeling incredibly stupid, watching them all turn their backs on me and begin to walk away.
"We can't just leave her here to die." Said a new voice behind me. It was Aragorn, who was still looking curiously at me. The other eight stopped, and swiveled back around.
"But Strider, she does magic, and wears black." Frodo said, pointing to my black shirt.
I wished to God I would have worn my white blouse.
"Look, don't take this shirt to mean anything, I wear different colors every day." I protested, because Aragorn was now looking at me skeptically, too.
"Ah, so you change sides daily, then, eh?" Gandalf said slyly, "And therefor we can not trust you."
"Be reasonable!" I pleaded, "Sam's wearing blue, but that doesn't mean anything. Legolas has got on brown boots, but that doesn't mean he's a brown wizard."
"Yes, but you don't see me falling from the sky, now do you?" Legolas shot.
Yarr. It wasn't fair. I remembered reading tons of fanfictions that girls who entered Middle Earth were immediately loved by all the Fellowship. But now when I get the opportunity of a lifetime, no one seemed to like or trust me.
"Please, " I began, almost frantically, "believe that I'm not evil, and that once I picked a side, I would stick to it."
"Yes, but which side are you on?" Gandalf demanded, raising an eyebrow.
"The good guys- you guys." I finished.
"How can we trust her?" I heard Sam whisper to Frodo. Frodo looked me straight in the eye, and replied, "We'll just have to take her word, Sam."
"Fine. Join us if you wish, " Aragorn began, "but your every action will be monitered. In a five days hence, we shall decide on which side your loyalties lie."
There was another murmured agreement. I began to breathe more easily.
"You'll have to keep up." warned Gimli. I shrugged, wondering where we were. I asked, and Boromir told be rather haughtily that we had just left Rivendell.
"Oh boy, " I muttered under my breath, "I have to start at the beginning." I glanced over at Merry and Pippin, who'd been my favorite characters in the book, and found they were staring avidly at me. When our eyes met, the two ducked their heads, backed away, and walked behind me.
I realized every member of the fellowship kept shooting me suspicious looks, and it was getting really old. What had I done wrong? I asked myself angrily, it wasn't my fault the airplane disappeared.
When the sun finally set, we stopped. My legs were dying, and I was thirsty. Aragorn made a fire, and Boromir disappeared into the woods.
I watched the others. Gimli was examining his axe, Merry, Pippin, and Frodo were talking in hushed voices, Sam was rummaging through his bag, and Gandalf was talking in Elvish to Legolas.
The Elf nodded looking hard at me, and pulled something silvery from his pack, and set it by his side. Boromir returned, holding a dead buck, and set to work skinning it.
Trust me when I say watching a person skin an animal does not whet the appetite. It was disgusting. I averted my eyes, and scuffled a few feet away from the circle. In an instant, Aragorn was behind me, pushing the broad side of his sword into my back.
"Where are you going?" he hissed.
"Boromir was grossing me out with all that blood and skin." I replied in frustration. The sword went back into his sheath, and he returned to his place.
When the deer was finally roasted over the fire, Gimli hacked it to pieces with one of his smaller axes, and passed the meat all around. I got the smallest portion. Great. They were going to starve me. I figured their logic was, if I intended to kill them all in their sleep, at least I would be weak from hunger.
After we all ate, I realized I was half right. Legolas approached me, holding the long silvery thing, and ordered me to sit against the tree. Confused, I did as he said. The silvery thing identified itself as a rope, and I soon found he intended on tying me against the tree for the night.
"This is outrageous." I protested, knocking the rope from the archer's hand. Gimli and Boromir were at Legolas's side in a second, aiming their weapons at me.
"Fine. Tie me up." I submitted, my insides boiling with indignation. Legolas proceeded to bind my wrists, and then tie me to the tree around my neck and waist.
"Do you think I would kill you all in your sleep?" I demanded. Legolas cracked a grim smile, "Perhaps not, but if you are a spy of Sauron, we can't have you running away in the night to report our doings."
"God forbid." I muttered. Legolas, ignoring me, knotted the rope, and, nodding, left. I don't know if you've ever been tied to a tree, maybe you have, but for those who haven't, it's really uncomfortable.
I struggled for awhile to find a spot where I might have a chance of getting sleep, but failed. Pippin approached me, clutching his sword in both hands.
"I'm supposed to guard you." he said in his Scottish accent. I grinned, and he, looking confused, sat a few feet away, and stared at me.
Even more uncomfortable, and not just because of the tree, I asked, "So, Pip, what's new with you?"
The hobbit shrugged. I wished I could hug him. "You're no' like the other men, Miss...Miss..."he faltered, obviously waiting for me to give him a name.
"Eleanor." I replied. Pippin nodded, "You're no' like Strider or Boromir, then, Miss Eleanor."
"We come from very separate worlds." I answered, craning my neck to see what the others were doing.
"Where do you come from?"
"I already told you."
"No, what's i' like?" Pippin persisted. I thought for a moment, then said, "There are giant things as big as castles, but they look like boxes, and that's where people go to work. There aren't horses to ride, instead, there are small wagons that move by themselves that you have to control, and..." I went on telling him about electricity, subways, and fast food restraunts.
The hobbit's eyes kept widening as I continued describing things in simplified version until he said, "Pardon, Miss Eleanor, I don' think I can take another thing in."
"That's ok." I replied, glad he wanted me to stop. My mouth was getting dry. We sat in silence for a moment or two, and then I asked, "Hey Pip?"
"Oy?" he answered, looking up.
"Do you think you could get me some water?"
Pippin got up, and went to his bag. He pulled out a deerskin bag with a wooden cap on it. He brought it back over, and uncorked the top.
"Here, would you just pour it into my mouth then, please?" I asked, tilting my head back as far as it would go.
Pippin somehow succeeded in drenching me with the whole contents of the container. He looked worried for a second, but then I grinned, to show him I wasn't mad. He gave a chuckle, and corked the flask.
"Sorry, Miss Eleanor." he muttered, sitting down.
"Don't worry about it, " I assured him, "I got a few swallows at least. Thanks."
Pippin nodded, and yawned. I didn't say anything more, and let the hobbit sleep.
.
The next day, I realized I must have gotten some sleep, because I found Gimli roughly shaking me awake. He untied the ropes, and stalked back to the others. Stiff, cold, and tired, I stood up, and stretched.
As we walked, Pippin joined me at the back, and managed to convince Merry to walk with us. The blonde hobbit did so, but kept giving me skeptical looks.
Again, I cursed my horrid luck. Of all the plausable and undoubtably wonderful things that could have happened to me, I got landed being the mysterious, but by no means trustworthy figure. I sighed deeply, and glanced at Pippin, who was talking animatedly with Merry about gardening or something.
I looked at the characters before me. Boromir seemed to be trying to forget that I even exsisted, as was Gimli. Legolas kept craning his head back to glare at me with his clear blue eyes, his brows furrowed, and turn slowly back to the path ahead of us.
Frodo was constantly shooting glancing at me, and holding his hand to his throat, where the One Ring was undoubtably hanging, as if I was a threat to the survival of Middle Earth. Sam would look at me fearfully every now and then. With every stare I recieved, my temper rose.
By the end of the day, when Legolas approached me with the rope, I'd had enough.
"No!" I shouted forcefully. Legolas looked taken aback, dropped the rope, and began to reach for the knives on his back.
"Slay her!" Boromir ordered, finally acknowledging my exsistence.
"See it I care!" I shot at Boromir acidly. I was to frustrated and mad to care, "Just let me go. What have you got to lose? Let me leave, and I'll..." I trailed off, realizing a deeper part of my problem.
How would I get back home? There wasn't a plane anywhere close, or even concieved in this world. I'd have to find another cloud-ring, and fly through it. Deep in thought, it took a second to realize that Legolas had retrieved the rope, and was advancing on me.
I glared at him. He glared right back, and lunged. With Elven skill, no doubt, he managed to get the rope around me once, but by that time, my insticts surfaced, and I started fighting back.
Aragorn darted over to us, and grabbed my legs. In a stately manner, Gandalf held my wrists together. It was a three to one fight. I lost, obviously, and when I was bound so tight to the tree I couldn't breathe properly, Gandalf straightened up, and said, "We cannot just 'let you go'. We still have not the chance to trust your word after that display. You must follow us until we are sure you can be allowed to leave and not tell of our business and whereabouts."
"Fine." I snapped, enraged, and still panting from the struggle.
Boromir was to be my guard that night, and spent the whole time staring darkly at me while I, trying to breathe normally, attempted to sleep. No such like, tonight, however. Whenever my eyes would close for longer than a normal blink, Boromir would cough loudly, jerking me back awake.
After the fifth attempt followed by an obviously faked cough, I snapped my eyes opened, and glared my worst at the Steward of Gondor. He glared right back, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
"Do you mind?" I hissed, "I'm trying to get some sleep tonight." Boromir smirked, and settled himself against the trunk of a nearbye tree, and closed his eyes. I followed suit, but no sooner were my eyes closed, then a great shriek rang through the woods.
The whole company was too their feet in a heartbeat. Legolas, who, of course, didn't require sleep, was already drawing an arrow in his bow, and aiming at wildly about.
It was the dead of night, and though there were no shadows, I felt a rush of blackness sweep over the ground. I looked up, and saw that a creature had blotted out the stars ahead.
The ground beneath me gave a shake, and I concluded that whatever had been above us had now landed.
"Ringwraiths!" called Gandalf, "Elessar! Hide the Hobbits. Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir, be ready for attack."
So caught up in what the others were doing, I realized that no one had bothered to help me in any way.
The air around me grew cold as abandonment sank in. I was tied to a tree, with a Nazgul scurrying the woods, and no one cared what was to happen to me. I tried not to pity myself, assuring my racing heart that it was better that Frodo was safe rather than me.
Another screech resounded through the trees, and I shivered. Another followed the first, and then a third. I wracked my mind, trying to figure out if this made sense. Gandalf and Elrond had drowned the Nazguls' horses, but had the nine wraiths already aquired the flying monsters?
Deciding sequential orders didn't matter at a time like this, I tested the ropes to see if there was any hope for escape. Legolas, however, had intended for me to stay by that tree until someone else untied me.
There was a rustling behind me, and my heart wormed it's way to my throat, where it pounded painfully by my temples. A shriek errupted right behind me.
Forgetting common sense, and adopting panic, I heaved myself away from the tree, resulting in the ropes digging into my shoulders and stomach. I strained my head to see what was behind me, and bit back a scream as a ringwraith stood barely a yard away from the trunk.
His hooded head whipped around and the faceless dark mass stared stonily at me. It took a slow step closer to me, one hand reaching for its sword.
'Oh please don't let that be a morgul blade.' I thought. Another step drew it closer to me. I turned to see what the others were doing. Aragorn and the Hobbits were nowhere to be seen, but the other four were all battling two wraiths, and, although it sounds like four against two would be an easy win, it wasn't.
Legolas did a graceful kind of pivot as his knives flashed in each hand and he attacked one of the wraiths. During the spin, our eyes met, and I hoped that it dawned on him that I was tied and defenseless with a Nazgul shuffling towards me.
The message had been conveyed, and Legolas sprinted over to the tree. In one movement, he slashed through the ropes, and yanked me up. He forced one of his knives into my fist, and went back to the fireside.
I held the knife dumbly in my hand, looking at the wraith, who now had its own sword drawn, and aiming it threateningly at me.
If Nazgul could laugh, I swear this one would be chuckling like there was no tomorrow. I knew I must look like an idiot, gripping a knife no bigger than one I had used to cut steak with, while my opponent had a sword most likely liable to melt if the tip penetrated my skin, poisoning my veins, and making me incurably ill for the rest of my life.
So you can see, my options weren't good. The wraith took two more steps forward, and I took four steps back.
Then, a loud "Aaaaiiiiieeeee!" pierced the air, more shrill than the Nazguls' scream. Two figures hurled themselves in front of me, wielding swords no longer than the knife Legolas had lent me.
It was Merry and Pippin.
Chapter One
It was an ordinary day. For me, at least. I'm not sure if you would consider flying in your private plane normal, but I'd been doing it nearly every weekday evening for three years now.
My job is a secretary for my father, who's a lawyer. I saved all my earning for years to get "The Blackbird" which is the name of my plane. Aviation is my passion, see. I've always loved flying and- I'll get back to my story.
Anyway, it was a normal day, and I'd been airborn for about twenty minutes. The clouds were all white and fluffy-like, usually the kind you find shapes in. I was dipping in and out of them, deciding what I should think about.
I settled on Middle Earth, the location of my favorite fantasy. I was thinking of Lothlorien when I found a cloud ring forming on the side of a particularly large cloud. Those are usually rare, but I always enjoy flying through them. It wasn't very big, indeed, it seemed to be shrinking rapidly. I accelerated the plane, and, still thinking about Lord of the Rings, flew through it.
When I reached the other side a moment later, I knew something was wrong. For one, the ground below me no longer held streets and suburbs. Instead, there were forests and streams. For another thing, my plane instantly disappeared, which isn't really a desirable thing if your pushing two thousand feet above ground.
I did what any being would do. I sank like a rock. The world came closer. My end was near, I knew it. Quickly praying for God to take my soul, I closed my eyes and waited to become a human pancake.
However, that didn't happen. It seemed as though I was slowing down. I opened my eyes once again, and saw the ground gradually meeting me. I tumbled clumsily to the ground, but I was alive. I nearly cried with relief, but then looked around me.
Eighteen eyes were staring at me. I was surrounded by strange people all wearing odd clothes. They almost lookedlike they were dressed as...
"No." I whispered, looking hard at a man with light brown hair, with a horn at his side.
"Who are you?" Demanded a voice behind me. I twisted around and saw a man in grey robes with a pointy hat.
"Eleanor Quame." I replied, still trying to make sense of this. When I went through the cloud ring, it transported me to Middle Earth. But that was absurd, yet here I was, with four very short young men (one of whom was holding the lead of a pony) whose large feet were definately not prosthetics.
"Dark magic." came a gruff voice to my right. I glanced and saw the dwarf, glaring at me.
"Where did you come from?" asked the elf standing beside Gimli.
"Cherailles, Vermont." I answered truthfully. Legolas narrowed his eyes, "I saw you fall from the sky. We all did. Speak the truth!"
There was a murmur of agreements. I looked around hopefully, but saw only hard stares in return.
"I was flying, and then I fell." I said bluntly.
"Just as I said, dark magic." growled Gimli.
"Look, I'm just as confused as you are all." I stated, climbing to my feet. Merry took a step back, looking wide eyed at me.
"Let us forget this wench, and continue the quest." Boromir barked. The others nodded. I stood there, feeling incredibly stupid, watching them all turn their backs on me and begin to walk away.
"We can't just leave her here to die." Said a new voice behind me. It was Aragorn, who was still looking curiously at me. The other eight stopped, and swiveled back around.
"But Strider, she does magic, and wears black." Frodo said, pointing to my black shirt.
I wished to God I would have worn my white blouse.
"Look, don't take this shirt to mean anything, I wear different colors every day." I protested, because Aragorn was now looking at me skeptically, too.
"Ah, so you change sides daily, then, eh?" Gandalf said slyly, "And therefor we can not trust you."
"Be reasonable!" I pleaded, "Sam's wearing blue, but that doesn't mean anything. Legolas has got on brown boots, but that doesn't mean he's a brown wizard."
"Yes, but you don't see me falling from the sky, now do you?" Legolas shot.
Yarr. It wasn't fair. I remembered reading tons of fanfictions that girls who entered Middle Earth were immediately loved by all the Fellowship. But now when I get the opportunity of a lifetime, no one seemed to like or trust me.
"Please, " I began, almost frantically, "believe that I'm not evil, and that once I picked a side, I would stick to it."
"Yes, but which side are you on?" Gandalf demanded, raising an eyebrow.
"The good guys- you guys." I finished.
"How can we trust her?" I heard Sam whisper to Frodo. Frodo looked me straight in the eye, and replied, "We'll just have to take her word, Sam."
"Fine. Join us if you wish, " Aragorn began, "but your every action will be monitered. In a five days hence, we shall decide on which side your loyalties lie."
There was another murmured agreement. I began to breathe more easily.
"You'll have to keep up." warned Gimli. I shrugged, wondering where we were. I asked, and Boromir told be rather haughtily that we had just left Rivendell.
"Oh boy, " I muttered under my breath, "I have to start at the beginning." I glanced over at Merry and Pippin, who'd been my favorite characters in the book, and found they were staring avidly at me. When our eyes met, the two ducked their heads, backed away, and walked behind me.
I realized every member of the fellowship kept shooting me suspicious looks, and it was getting really old. What had I done wrong? I asked myself angrily, it wasn't my fault the airplane disappeared.
When the sun finally set, we stopped. My legs were dying, and I was thirsty. Aragorn made a fire, and Boromir disappeared into the woods.
I watched the others. Gimli was examining his axe, Merry, Pippin, and Frodo were talking in hushed voices, Sam was rummaging through his bag, and Gandalf was talking in Elvish to Legolas.
The Elf nodded looking hard at me, and pulled something silvery from his pack, and set it by his side. Boromir returned, holding a dead buck, and set to work skinning it.
Trust me when I say watching a person skin an animal does not whet the appetite. It was disgusting. I averted my eyes, and scuffled a few feet away from the circle. In an instant, Aragorn was behind me, pushing the broad side of his sword into my back.
"Where are you going?" he hissed.
"Boromir was grossing me out with all that blood and skin." I replied in frustration. The sword went back into his sheath, and he returned to his place.
When the deer was finally roasted over the fire, Gimli hacked it to pieces with one of his smaller axes, and passed the meat all around. I got the smallest portion. Great. They were going to starve me. I figured their logic was, if I intended to kill them all in their sleep, at least I would be weak from hunger.
After we all ate, I realized I was half right. Legolas approached me, holding the long silvery thing, and ordered me to sit against the tree. Confused, I did as he said. The silvery thing identified itself as a rope, and I soon found he intended on tying me against the tree for the night.
"This is outrageous." I protested, knocking the rope from the archer's hand. Gimli and Boromir were at Legolas's side in a second, aiming their weapons at me.
"Fine. Tie me up." I submitted, my insides boiling with indignation. Legolas proceeded to bind my wrists, and then tie me to the tree around my neck and waist.
"Do you think I would kill you all in your sleep?" I demanded. Legolas cracked a grim smile, "Perhaps not, but if you are a spy of Sauron, we can't have you running away in the night to report our doings."
"God forbid." I muttered. Legolas, ignoring me, knotted the rope, and, nodding, left. I don't know if you've ever been tied to a tree, maybe you have, but for those who haven't, it's really uncomfortable.
I struggled for awhile to find a spot where I might have a chance of getting sleep, but failed. Pippin approached me, clutching his sword in both hands.
"I'm supposed to guard you." he said in his Scottish accent. I grinned, and he, looking confused, sat a few feet away, and stared at me.
Even more uncomfortable, and not just because of the tree, I asked, "So, Pip, what's new with you?"
The hobbit shrugged. I wished I could hug him. "You're no' like the other men, Miss...Miss..."he faltered, obviously waiting for me to give him a name.
"Eleanor." I replied. Pippin nodded, "You're no' like Strider or Boromir, then, Miss Eleanor."
"We come from very separate worlds." I answered, craning my neck to see what the others were doing.
"Where do you come from?"
"I already told you."
"No, what's i' like?" Pippin persisted. I thought for a moment, then said, "There are giant things as big as castles, but they look like boxes, and that's where people go to work. There aren't horses to ride, instead, there are small wagons that move by themselves that you have to control, and..." I went on telling him about electricity, subways, and fast food restraunts.
The hobbit's eyes kept widening as I continued describing things in simplified version until he said, "Pardon, Miss Eleanor, I don' think I can take another thing in."
"That's ok." I replied, glad he wanted me to stop. My mouth was getting dry. We sat in silence for a moment or two, and then I asked, "Hey Pip?"
"Oy?" he answered, looking up.
"Do you think you could get me some water?"
Pippin got up, and went to his bag. He pulled out a deerskin bag with a wooden cap on it. He brought it back over, and uncorked the top.
"Here, would you just pour it into my mouth then, please?" I asked, tilting my head back as far as it would go.
Pippin somehow succeeded in drenching me with the whole contents of the container. He looked worried for a second, but then I grinned, to show him I wasn't mad. He gave a chuckle, and corked the flask.
"Sorry, Miss Eleanor." he muttered, sitting down.
"Don't worry about it, " I assured him, "I got a few swallows at least. Thanks."
Pippin nodded, and yawned. I didn't say anything more, and let the hobbit sleep.
.
The next day, I realized I must have gotten some sleep, because I found Gimli roughly shaking me awake. He untied the ropes, and stalked back to the others. Stiff, cold, and tired, I stood up, and stretched.
As we walked, Pippin joined me at the back, and managed to convince Merry to walk with us. The blonde hobbit did so, but kept giving me skeptical looks.
Again, I cursed my horrid luck. Of all the plausable and undoubtably wonderful things that could have happened to me, I got landed being the mysterious, but by no means trustworthy figure. I sighed deeply, and glanced at Pippin, who was talking animatedly with Merry about gardening or something.
I looked at the characters before me. Boromir seemed to be trying to forget that I even exsisted, as was Gimli. Legolas kept craning his head back to glare at me with his clear blue eyes, his brows furrowed, and turn slowly back to the path ahead of us.
Frodo was constantly shooting glancing at me, and holding his hand to his throat, where the One Ring was undoubtably hanging, as if I was a threat to the survival of Middle Earth. Sam would look at me fearfully every now and then. With every stare I recieved, my temper rose.
By the end of the day, when Legolas approached me with the rope, I'd had enough.
"No!" I shouted forcefully. Legolas looked taken aback, dropped the rope, and began to reach for the knives on his back.
"Slay her!" Boromir ordered, finally acknowledging my exsistence.
"See it I care!" I shot at Boromir acidly. I was to frustrated and mad to care, "Just let me go. What have you got to lose? Let me leave, and I'll..." I trailed off, realizing a deeper part of my problem.
How would I get back home? There wasn't a plane anywhere close, or even concieved in this world. I'd have to find another cloud-ring, and fly through it. Deep in thought, it took a second to realize that Legolas had retrieved the rope, and was advancing on me.
I glared at him. He glared right back, and lunged. With Elven skill, no doubt, he managed to get the rope around me once, but by that time, my insticts surfaced, and I started fighting back.
Aragorn darted over to us, and grabbed my legs. In a stately manner, Gandalf held my wrists together. It was a three to one fight. I lost, obviously, and when I was bound so tight to the tree I couldn't breathe properly, Gandalf straightened up, and said, "We cannot just 'let you go'. We still have not the chance to trust your word after that display. You must follow us until we are sure you can be allowed to leave and not tell of our business and whereabouts."
"Fine." I snapped, enraged, and still panting from the struggle.
Boromir was to be my guard that night, and spent the whole time staring darkly at me while I, trying to breathe normally, attempted to sleep. No such like, tonight, however. Whenever my eyes would close for longer than a normal blink, Boromir would cough loudly, jerking me back awake.
After the fifth attempt followed by an obviously faked cough, I snapped my eyes opened, and glared my worst at the Steward of Gondor. He glared right back, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
"Do you mind?" I hissed, "I'm trying to get some sleep tonight." Boromir smirked, and settled himself against the trunk of a nearbye tree, and closed his eyes. I followed suit, but no sooner were my eyes closed, then a great shriek rang through the woods.
The whole company was too their feet in a heartbeat. Legolas, who, of course, didn't require sleep, was already drawing an arrow in his bow, and aiming at wildly about.
It was the dead of night, and though there were no shadows, I felt a rush of blackness sweep over the ground. I looked up, and saw that a creature had blotted out the stars ahead.
The ground beneath me gave a shake, and I concluded that whatever had been above us had now landed.
"Ringwraiths!" called Gandalf, "Elessar! Hide the Hobbits. Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir, be ready for attack."
So caught up in what the others were doing, I realized that no one had bothered to help me in any way.
The air around me grew cold as abandonment sank in. I was tied to a tree, with a Nazgul scurrying the woods, and no one cared what was to happen to me. I tried not to pity myself, assuring my racing heart that it was better that Frodo was safe rather than me.
Another screech resounded through the trees, and I shivered. Another followed the first, and then a third. I wracked my mind, trying to figure out if this made sense. Gandalf and Elrond had drowned the Nazguls' horses, but had the nine wraiths already aquired the flying monsters?
Deciding sequential orders didn't matter at a time like this, I tested the ropes to see if there was any hope for escape. Legolas, however, had intended for me to stay by that tree until someone else untied me.
There was a rustling behind me, and my heart wormed it's way to my throat, where it pounded painfully by my temples. A shriek errupted right behind me.
Forgetting common sense, and adopting panic, I heaved myself away from the tree, resulting in the ropes digging into my shoulders and stomach. I strained my head to see what was behind me, and bit back a scream as a ringwraith stood barely a yard away from the trunk.
His hooded head whipped around and the faceless dark mass stared stonily at me. It took a slow step closer to me, one hand reaching for its sword.
'Oh please don't let that be a morgul blade.' I thought. Another step drew it closer to me. I turned to see what the others were doing. Aragorn and the Hobbits were nowhere to be seen, but the other four were all battling two wraiths, and, although it sounds like four against two would be an easy win, it wasn't.
Legolas did a graceful kind of pivot as his knives flashed in each hand and he attacked one of the wraiths. During the spin, our eyes met, and I hoped that it dawned on him that I was tied and defenseless with a Nazgul shuffling towards me.
The message had been conveyed, and Legolas sprinted over to the tree. In one movement, he slashed through the ropes, and yanked me up. He forced one of his knives into my fist, and went back to the fireside.
I held the knife dumbly in my hand, looking at the wraith, who now had its own sword drawn, and aiming it threateningly at me.
If Nazgul could laugh, I swear this one would be chuckling like there was no tomorrow. I knew I must look like an idiot, gripping a knife no bigger than one I had used to cut steak with, while my opponent had a sword most likely liable to melt if the tip penetrated my skin, poisoning my veins, and making me incurably ill for the rest of my life.
So you can see, my options weren't good. The wraith took two more steps forward, and I took four steps back.
Then, a loud "Aaaaiiiiieeeee!" pierced the air, more shrill than the Nazguls' scream. Two figures hurled themselves in front of me, wielding swords no longer than the knife Legolas had lent me.
It was Merry and Pippin.