Hello, it's back and it's scary!!!! Anyway, thank you to those of you who have reviewed this, I really appreciate your comments. Please keep them coming...

Chapter 7:

Frodo woke to the dappled sunshine playing on his face. Contentedly he looked down, expecting to see Eowyn sleeping peacefully... She wasn't there. Looking around the bank, he could see no sign of her. Maybe she went up to the house, thinking to himself, and feeling hurt and dejected; Frodo got up stiffly, stretched and started towards the house.

There was no sign of Eowyn, and Frodo, gradually becoming more steeped in gloom, changed and went to breakfast. She didn't come for breakfast, she missed lunch and tea, and by the time it reached suppertime, the first twinges of anxiety struck. Until now he'd been hurt and upset, but now real worry started to creep in and a gnawing doubt settled like a shadow over his heart. Unable to concentrate on anything for more than five seconds, Frodo trudged down to the riverbank to think.

Sitting quietly with his feet in the gushing water, Frodo thought back to the night before, feeling hurt, alone and wondering what he'd done wrong. He hadn't pushed her into doing anything she didn't want to. He didn't think that he'd frightened her in anyway... A sudden noise to his left made Frodo look up sharply. Something caught his eye. Leaning closer to the ground, he saw a hobbit- sized footmark. Looking a little way ahead, he saw that they started at the base of the willow tree where they had slept, and continued into the bushes. What of it? They were probably days old. Turning back to the water he tried to ignore the sense of doubt inside. He lost. His curiosity getting the better of him, he stood up carefully, making sure that he didn't step on the trail; he followed it along the bank.

Although he could tell the general direction that the path took, he had to be careful, as the prints were light and hard to see. Moving through the bushes he came to a clearing, and there he stopped. The tracks went to the centre of the clearing, and there ended. There were no return footmarks, and looking closer, what he saw set his little heart hammering. From behind two bushes on either side of the clearing, came two large sets of prints. Too big for a hobbit, they led to where the hobbit marks ended, and there seemed to get confused, as if a fight had broken out. Then the two larger prints continued, heading off along the riverbank. Not daring to contemplate what this might mean, Frodo raced back to the house to get Merry. Having been taught some tracking skills by Aragorn during their long journey some years ago, Merry had since been famed throughout the Shire, for his ability to track lost people or animals. He would be able to solve this riddle Frodo thought confidently.

***

Merry looked thoughtful as he examined the ground in the ground carefully, Frodo hovering impatiently nearby.

"Well," Merry remarked finally, "The small hobbit prints are most definitely my daughter's."

Concern started to show on his face, and lines appeared on his smooth brow. Frowning he looked back at the ground.

"But I have no idea who the other prints belong to. Most definitely big folk, there's no doubt about that!"

Merry stood in silence, appearing to have forgotten that Frodo still stood there. Finally Frodo could bear it no longer, and asked quietly,

"Did they take Eowyn with them? What did they want with her?"

After some consideration, Merry replied slowly with,

"Yes I believe we can safely say they took her with them, but why? I have no idea."

Frodo reeled with this new information. They'd taken her! His Eowyn! They'd kidnapped her only a few metres away from where he had lain. Sleeping! Mentally kicking himself, he cursed inwardly at himself, for falling asleep and leaving her unprotected. His bitter tirade was interrupted by Merry finally coming to a decision.

"I must go and find her."

"Well begging your pardon Uncle, but I'm coming too. I want her back just as much as you do!"

Startled, Merry looked up at Frodo. He'd almost thought it was Sam for a minute! Frodo had definitely inherited Sam's stubborn streak, and he imagined that, like Sam, this was only the start of it and it could easily get worse. Not wanting to see if this was true, Merry sighed and grudgingly agreed that Frodo could come.

Their minds made up, determined looks mirrored in each others faces they set off at a brisk walk up to the house, to pack and let Estella know what had happened.

***

Fifteen minutes later, both Merry and Frodo were packed and ready to go. Two ponies were brought round to the front of the house by a stable hand, Merry's chestnut gelding Theodoc, and a quiet little palomino mare called Goldberry for Frodo to ride. Merry and Estella said farewell, and Estella gave Frodo a warm hug and told him to be careful.

They led their ponies to the river, and picked up the two men's heavy footmarks from there. Merry led the way, stooping to the ground regularly to check the marks. They led along the bank, crossing through fields, and as Merry and Frodo finally came to the road, dusk was falling lightly around them. Brought to a halt briefly, Merry scanned the turf at the edge of the road in both directions, before coming back to where Frodo was waiting. His handsome face looked suddenly old and careworn, worry for Eowyn's safety made him forget everything else.

"They've set off in the direction of Bree. Thank god they decided to walk on the grass, otherwise we'd have no hope of finding them. Come on we'll go a bit further before we stop for some food."

Mounting up, they set off at a steady trot, checking for footmarks regularly to check that the men kept to the road. They had been riding for a good two hours, and night had fallen like a dark blanket around them, smothering everything, when clear hoof beats could be heard, still some way away, but coming quickly towards them. Halting, fear sprang up in Frodo's heart, as he waited breathlessly for the rider to appear. Too often Sam had told his children stories of the dreaded 'black riders,' and to Frodo this sounded exactly like one, returned to haunt them. The dim outline of a figure grew steadily clearer as they neared Merry and Frodo, and presently the rider was upon them.

"Hoy! You left me! How could you go off on an adventure, and leave me! I have a good mind to not give you your birthday present for that, Meridoc Brandybuck!"

Merry laughed outrite at this, and dismounted to greet the rider.

"How did you find us Pippin? And we left in such a rush, we didn't have time to let you know!"

Relief showed in both Frodo and Merry's faces as the rider dismounted to embrace Merry and grin wickedly at Frodo, showing that he was indeed Merry's closest friend Perigrin Took, and not some evil creature of the night.

"I'm not about to let you and Frodo have all the fun! I'm coming with you!"

Chattering, they mounted up again, and set off along the road, until they came to a sheltered hollow just off the road. Tethering the ponies, they got a small fire going, before cooking a quick and filling dinner. Full and warm, they settled back half an hour later. Merry and Pippin got out their pipes and started puffing happily, before Merry smiled and said,

"So how did you know where we were?"

Settling back comfortably, Pippin grinned and began,

"Well, it all started when..."