Disclaimer: Since Sam refuses to remain hiding in my closet, Tolkien found him, and now I don't own him either. :Sigh:
Chapter Three
That night, whether it was because Legolas had slashed the rope we had, or they fellowship decided to trust me, I was not bound to any tree. There was much rejoicing on my part.
However, Gandalf had ordered Legolas to stay awake all night, and watch me. We had a quiet meal (my portion of the food was still suspiciously smaller), and then we went off in our own little groups. The Hobbits huddled in one corner, yawning and searching for any leftovers. Gandalf, Boromir, and Aragorn sat disgussing things in hushed voices, leaving Legolas, Gimli, and me to think of a topic we could all talk about.
Gimli showed no signs of wanting anything to do with me. He sat around sharpening the blades on his many axes, giving masculine grunts every now and then as he held the said weapons to the firelight to see his work.
"So, " I began, stretching my legs out, looking over at Legolas, "you don't need sleep or food, eh?"
Legolas gave me a startled look, and replied shortly, "Yes, my race requires no rest nor food. How is it you know this?"
I shrugged. My mind was whirring for some explanation of how this was possible. An answer arose from the depths, and before I thought about was I was going to say, I blurted, "So you're more of a plant than a human."
Legolas looked confused and a bit offended. Quickly, I defended myself, saying, "I mean, plants don't need food, because they make their own from sunlight in the process of photo-" I trailed off, because now Gimli was looking with an odd sort of interest gleaming in his eyes.
"-synthesis." I finished, "It all makes sense when you think about..." I stopped talking, because Legolas was now looking like he was fighting an internal battle. Finally, he errupted, "I don't know if I'm more insulted for you comparing my race to a plant or human! Will you be calling the Halflings fungi next? Or is the Dwarf perhaps the fungi? He certainly does live it he dark, and put a hideous flaw in anyone's garden."
"Now see here!" Roared Gimli, clamboring to his feet, "I don't like your implications, Elf."
Now all the fellowship was watching the two bicker, with me, standing confused in the middle. Wow. All I wanted was to create a conversation.
"Yes?" Legolas retorted, "I haven't exactly been enjoying your company, either, Dwarf, so if you value that grotesque head on your stunted shoulders in the least-"
"You threaten me?!" Gimli exclaimed. He shot a glance over at me, a look of triumph in his eyes, "You are nothing more than a weed! An ugly weed that is vexing, but not worth the energy to uproot."
"Gimli! Legolas!" Gandalf bellowed. The Elf, face red and twisted with rage, seemed to deflate slightly, and turned to Gandalf.
"My apologies, Mithrandir, for that display. It won't happen again." Legolas said, glaring at Gimli. The Dwarf gave a growl, and sat back down.
Before I got yelled at too, I sneaked over to where the Hobbits were, and pretended I had been there the whole time.
Boromir, however, must have seen the entire thing, for he stomped over, saying, "Now that you have at least gained Aragorn's trust, do you wish to make us all turn on each other?"
I gave a weak shake of my head. Scowling, he returned to the campfire.
"He's never going to like me." I muttered.
"He doesn't like me either." Frodo said. I glanced at him in shock. That was the first decent thing he had said to me. I grinned, and Frodo shrugged, his hand automatically going to the Ring on the chain.
"Eleanor!" Gandalf shouted, turning to me. I sighed, guessing what he was about to say. "Get back where Legolas can keep an eye on you."
Giving a wave to the hobbits, I reluctantly returned to my place. Legolas, sitting as if he had a hanger still in his shirt, or tunic-whatever it was, had his head bent, and was looking up at me through his lashes.
Gimli, red in the face, and stalked over to where Boromir and Aragorn were talking, and kept throwing dirty looks at Legolas and me. I exhaled again, and leaned back, looking up into the leafyness above me.
.
The next day we walked. And walked. And walked. Did I mention we walked? Alot? This fellowship will make an explorer out of me yet. My legs had begun to get somewhat muscular, which helped me not get so tired as quickly as I had before. Merry had started getting a bit more familiar with me, every once in a while striking up a conversation. Sam, however, forever clutching the lead to Bill the pony, didn't seem to trust me at all. Big suprise there.
The next night, I was again guarded by Legolas. We spent some time discussing nicknames, and at my suggestion of calling Gandalf Alf, Legolas actually cracked a small smile.
Ha! I was making progress. After much talking, miraculously, I had stimulated a- get ready for it- sense of humor hidden in Legolas. I was reminded back in the book the Hobbit, where all the elves were cheery and mischievous.
"Boromir shall be Bor," Legolas began, grinning, "and Aragorn must be Gorn. the dwarf is Gim, and you shall be El."
I nodded, smiling like a fool. It was sinking in that I'd made a friend, or at least, gotten closer to the Elf.
Or so I thought.
As Legolas was musing about nicknames for the hobbits, his head jerked, and his face snapped from amiable to serious in a matter of seconds.
"What is this folly you engage me in?" he demanded severely, his back stiffening to its normal posture.
"I-" I began, startled, but Legolas interrupted, "You make me lose my place, El. Go to your human sleep, and let me meditate." So saying, he closed his eyes, and his face took on a peaceful expression.
Confused and sad, I fell onto my back, and went to sleep. Only in the morning did it occur to me that Legolas had addressed me by my nickname he himself had settled on the night before.
That morning I walked deep in thought as we progressed through the wood. We finally left the said geographical feature, and found a vast plain before us, studded with hills and boulders.
Then it started to rain. Within minutes, I was soaked to the skin, and the cold, penetrating wind was freezing me to the bones. I glanced at the Hobbits. At least they had cloaks to somewhat protect them from the wind, if not the rain.
Gandalf didn't seem to care, Legolas, the perfect being, probably didn't feel any inconvenience at all. I was up to my ears in jealousy. Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli kept stony faces, and though I'm sure they were as cold as I, the were men, and therefore could endure anything if the alternative was showing a hint of weakness.
I used that pride to my advantage.
"Hey Boromir." I called. He nodded his head, to acknowledge that he heard me, and I continued, "Since you are a big tough man, would you mind giving up your cloak? My joints are-" But I didn't need to complain anymore. If he refused, that would prove to Aragorn and the others that he wasn't as tough as they. The pride of men prevailed.
Growling, Boromir whipped off his cloak, and shoved it at me. Grinning through my numbness, I said, "Thanks!" brightly, and wrapped myself tightly in it.
It helped somewhat.
.
We traveled alot that day, and finally, when the sun set, Gandalf let us stop for the night.
"Where are we, Gandalf?" Merry asked, wrapping his cloak around him tighter.
"The Fields of The'enrial*." Gandalf replied, "Those mountains yonder," he continued, pointing with his staff in the distance, where fog smothered mountains loomed, "are our first real obstacle."
"Caradhras." Gimli muttered, "Gandalf, my cousin, Balin, would give us a warm welcome should we pass through Moria."
"Nay Gimli, I would not go through Moria unless it was the only way." Gandalf answered. Gimli looked crestfallen, and began shuffling through his pack.
My thoughts were torn. If we went through Moria, Gandalf would fall, and then everyone would be sad, but if we went over Caradhras, it would be cold; Gandalf wouldn't die, and that might change the plot drastically. I sighed.
* The Fields of The'enrial are a figment of my imagination. You can't find them on the map of Middle Earth Tolkien so conviniently drew. I mean, you can look, but they aren't there...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Acharnae: Nifty name. I wish I could be kissed on the hand :Sigh: Ah well. Lots of things aren't as great as they're cracked up to be, like school, school dances, and semicolons.
TitanicHobbit:hehe, your name makes me chuckle as I get a mental image of a hobbit aboard the Titanic. First class, of course... Peachy....awesome adjective....:-)
Chapter Three
That night, whether it was because Legolas had slashed the rope we had, or they fellowship decided to trust me, I was not bound to any tree. There was much rejoicing on my part.
However, Gandalf had ordered Legolas to stay awake all night, and watch me. We had a quiet meal (my portion of the food was still suspiciously smaller), and then we went off in our own little groups. The Hobbits huddled in one corner, yawning and searching for any leftovers. Gandalf, Boromir, and Aragorn sat disgussing things in hushed voices, leaving Legolas, Gimli, and me to think of a topic we could all talk about.
Gimli showed no signs of wanting anything to do with me. He sat around sharpening the blades on his many axes, giving masculine grunts every now and then as he held the said weapons to the firelight to see his work.
"So, " I began, stretching my legs out, looking over at Legolas, "you don't need sleep or food, eh?"
Legolas gave me a startled look, and replied shortly, "Yes, my race requires no rest nor food. How is it you know this?"
I shrugged. My mind was whirring for some explanation of how this was possible. An answer arose from the depths, and before I thought about was I was going to say, I blurted, "So you're more of a plant than a human."
Legolas looked confused and a bit offended. Quickly, I defended myself, saying, "I mean, plants don't need food, because they make their own from sunlight in the process of photo-" I trailed off, because now Gimli was looking with an odd sort of interest gleaming in his eyes.
"-synthesis." I finished, "It all makes sense when you think about..." I stopped talking, because Legolas was now looking like he was fighting an internal battle. Finally, he errupted, "I don't know if I'm more insulted for you comparing my race to a plant or human! Will you be calling the Halflings fungi next? Or is the Dwarf perhaps the fungi? He certainly does live it he dark, and put a hideous flaw in anyone's garden."
"Now see here!" Roared Gimli, clamboring to his feet, "I don't like your implications, Elf."
Now all the fellowship was watching the two bicker, with me, standing confused in the middle. Wow. All I wanted was to create a conversation.
"Yes?" Legolas retorted, "I haven't exactly been enjoying your company, either, Dwarf, so if you value that grotesque head on your stunted shoulders in the least-"
"You threaten me?!" Gimli exclaimed. He shot a glance over at me, a look of triumph in his eyes, "You are nothing more than a weed! An ugly weed that is vexing, but not worth the energy to uproot."
"Gimli! Legolas!" Gandalf bellowed. The Elf, face red and twisted with rage, seemed to deflate slightly, and turned to Gandalf.
"My apologies, Mithrandir, for that display. It won't happen again." Legolas said, glaring at Gimli. The Dwarf gave a growl, and sat back down.
Before I got yelled at too, I sneaked over to where the Hobbits were, and pretended I had been there the whole time.
Boromir, however, must have seen the entire thing, for he stomped over, saying, "Now that you have at least gained Aragorn's trust, do you wish to make us all turn on each other?"
I gave a weak shake of my head. Scowling, he returned to the campfire.
"He's never going to like me." I muttered.
"He doesn't like me either." Frodo said. I glanced at him in shock. That was the first decent thing he had said to me. I grinned, and Frodo shrugged, his hand automatically going to the Ring on the chain.
"Eleanor!" Gandalf shouted, turning to me. I sighed, guessing what he was about to say. "Get back where Legolas can keep an eye on you."
Giving a wave to the hobbits, I reluctantly returned to my place. Legolas, sitting as if he had a hanger still in his shirt, or tunic-whatever it was, had his head bent, and was looking up at me through his lashes.
Gimli, red in the face, and stalked over to where Boromir and Aragorn were talking, and kept throwing dirty looks at Legolas and me. I exhaled again, and leaned back, looking up into the leafyness above me.
.
The next day we walked. And walked. And walked. Did I mention we walked? Alot? This fellowship will make an explorer out of me yet. My legs had begun to get somewhat muscular, which helped me not get so tired as quickly as I had before. Merry had started getting a bit more familiar with me, every once in a while striking up a conversation. Sam, however, forever clutching the lead to Bill the pony, didn't seem to trust me at all. Big suprise there.
The next night, I was again guarded by Legolas. We spent some time discussing nicknames, and at my suggestion of calling Gandalf Alf, Legolas actually cracked a small smile.
Ha! I was making progress. After much talking, miraculously, I had stimulated a- get ready for it- sense of humor hidden in Legolas. I was reminded back in the book the Hobbit, where all the elves were cheery and mischievous.
"Boromir shall be Bor," Legolas began, grinning, "and Aragorn must be Gorn. the dwarf is Gim, and you shall be El."
I nodded, smiling like a fool. It was sinking in that I'd made a friend, or at least, gotten closer to the Elf.
Or so I thought.
As Legolas was musing about nicknames for the hobbits, his head jerked, and his face snapped from amiable to serious in a matter of seconds.
"What is this folly you engage me in?" he demanded severely, his back stiffening to its normal posture.
"I-" I began, startled, but Legolas interrupted, "You make me lose my place, El. Go to your human sleep, and let me meditate." So saying, he closed his eyes, and his face took on a peaceful expression.
Confused and sad, I fell onto my back, and went to sleep. Only in the morning did it occur to me that Legolas had addressed me by my nickname he himself had settled on the night before.
That morning I walked deep in thought as we progressed through the wood. We finally left the said geographical feature, and found a vast plain before us, studded with hills and boulders.
Then it started to rain. Within minutes, I was soaked to the skin, and the cold, penetrating wind was freezing me to the bones. I glanced at the Hobbits. At least they had cloaks to somewhat protect them from the wind, if not the rain.
Gandalf didn't seem to care, Legolas, the perfect being, probably didn't feel any inconvenience at all. I was up to my ears in jealousy. Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli kept stony faces, and though I'm sure they were as cold as I, the were men, and therefore could endure anything if the alternative was showing a hint of weakness.
I used that pride to my advantage.
"Hey Boromir." I called. He nodded his head, to acknowledge that he heard me, and I continued, "Since you are a big tough man, would you mind giving up your cloak? My joints are-" But I didn't need to complain anymore. If he refused, that would prove to Aragorn and the others that he wasn't as tough as they. The pride of men prevailed.
Growling, Boromir whipped off his cloak, and shoved it at me. Grinning through my numbness, I said, "Thanks!" brightly, and wrapped myself tightly in it.
It helped somewhat.
.
We traveled alot that day, and finally, when the sun set, Gandalf let us stop for the night.
"Where are we, Gandalf?" Merry asked, wrapping his cloak around him tighter.
"The Fields of The'enrial*." Gandalf replied, "Those mountains yonder," he continued, pointing with his staff in the distance, where fog smothered mountains loomed, "are our first real obstacle."
"Caradhras." Gimli muttered, "Gandalf, my cousin, Balin, would give us a warm welcome should we pass through Moria."
"Nay Gimli, I would not go through Moria unless it was the only way." Gandalf answered. Gimli looked crestfallen, and began shuffling through his pack.
My thoughts were torn. If we went through Moria, Gandalf would fall, and then everyone would be sad, but if we went over Caradhras, it would be cold; Gandalf wouldn't die, and that might change the plot drastically. I sighed.
* The Fields of The'enrial are a figment of my imagination. You can't find them on the map of Middle Earth Tolkien so conviniently drew. I mean, you can look, but they aren't there...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Acharnae: Nifty name. I wish I could be kissed on the hand :Sigh: Ah well. Lots of things aren't as great as they're cracked up to be, like school, school dances, and semicolons.
TitanicHobbit:hehe, your name makes me chuckle as I get a mental image of a hobbit aboard the Titanic. First class, of course... Peachy....awesome adjective....:-)