Ch. 12

Pippin and Gandalf turned sharply towards the door at the noise. Pippin turned to ask Gandalf a question, but the white wizard clapped his hand over the hobbit-wizard's mouth.

"Fool of a Took!" he whispered. "Whatever makes that noise will not be dealt with by me, I tell you that much." Gandalf's eyes, which had been so friendly moments before, were now clouded with rage.

Pippin began to shake and looked up at Gandalf. "But, Gandalf, I can't face anything monstrous or anything!"

"You have and you will. What do you call Orcs? Uruk-hai? Trolls?"

Pippin squeaked, a noise very unbecoming of him.

Gandalf sighed. "Pippin, you must face this. Whatever it may be."

Pippin puffed out his chest, looked up at Gandalf, and nodded. Then he stepped around the corner of the hall, where he saw into the kitchen. Rosie, Frodo, and Gimli were hiding. Elrond stood in the open, not caring nor being frightened about what may happen next.

Pippin grabbed Sting from next to the door. The sword was plain- no blue light. No Orcs, no Uruk-hai. Wondering what could be banging on the door made his heart hammer, and he slowly reached for the knob. He turned it--- turned it---

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