"Ash nazg durbatulûk.."
A frown passed over the girl's face, as she slept deeply. Moaning softly, her dreams marred by depictions of ghostly figures, and fire, she sat up in her tangled bed sheets. The sky outside was a twilight blue, and something stirred at Bramblerose's senses, making her very anxious.
Since the party several months ago, the fox-maiden had remained quietly to herself, staring off into the blue yonder of the rolling horizon and reflecting on the disappearance of dear Mr. Baggins.
The Shire was still in an uproar about the incredible disappearance and she worried for Frodo and for wherever Bilbo was.
Her aunt was positive that he'd simply pulled a runner, being the queer man he was but Bramblerose could not help but wonder if something else was afoot.
Right now, if she had hackles, they would be standing on end. Something was drawing close, and its shadowed presence ate at her fears. Finally, she flung off the bed covers, and dressed in a hurry.
The fox-maiden had to see Gandalf! Dressing in a simple olive smock, and hurriedly wrapping her thick scarf over her slender shoulders, she stole out into the cool morning air.
The dew was cold against her bare feet as she took her normal shortcut through the orchard to the lane at Bag End. There was no activity in the community at this hour, save the smoldering chimneys peeking from the rich grass, and the milkman on his old cart.
Running up the steps, she knocked on the heavy door twice and waited. A few moments passed, before she carefully stepped over Sam's flowers to the kitchen window and peeked in. Everything was in darkness, and looked like they'd left in haste. Where was Gandalf and Frodo?! Something dawned on her. Her gaze fell from the door to the ground and behind her up to the direction out of Hobbiton.
They'd left.
Fleeing the scene, she took off into the woods again, to apprehend them, for once allowing her senses to guide her completely.
Where the? What's happening!!?
Bluebells seemed to create a carpet in this wood of silver trees, Frodo thought idly, grasping his walking stick. The clang of pots and pans kept him aware that his dear Sam was with him, and it was some comfort. In truth, he was terrified and excited and sick at the same time. His blue eyes met Gandalf's solemn gaze and he listening as the wizard explained his plan.
Sounds simply enough… he managed to think on a positive note, reassured that his wizard friend would help them. As the final words were said, the wizard struck off into the woods at a mad gallop, leaving Frodo, Sam and Bill feeling very much alone.
"Well… lets get going shall we?" Sam piped up after an uncomfortable moment, and the dark-haired hobbit nodded in response. He took a small peek behind him at the way back and thought of everything he was leaving behind. A fox-tail came to mind, and he sighed to himself.
"Yes, Sam. Lets go -" Frodo never completed his sentence, as a panicked voice echoed through the trees.
"Frodo?! Sam?!"
The two hobbits looked at each other in surprise, as the young girl appeared from the silver trees. Her cheek was smudged and flushed with running like the wind. Her smock was now torn and stained with muddied water, clinging to her legs as she dashed up to the both of them.
"Miss. Bramblerose! Are you alright?!" Sam asked in concern, as she caught her breath. The red hair shook in response before she looked at them in pure concern.
"Where are you going?" she asked bluntly. They exchanged looks before Frodo cleared his throat.
"We're being sent to Bree…" there was a brief intake of air before he spoke "look," he stepped forward and held her gaze in utter seriousness.
"Someone's after me. If I don't leave… they'll come to the Shire and, and I don't know what they'd do"
The truth is, he didn't want to find out. Bramblerose bit her lip as there was a silence, before speaking softly.
" …why? Why is Bilbo gone?" she stammered, feeling utterly helpless. The girl looked over at Sam, who gave her an understanding smile and stepped forward.
"We won't be long, Miss. Bramblerose…if all things go well" he explained, glancing at Frodo. Bramblerose was silent for a moment, and finally looked down, acknowledging their departure.
Pausing to pat her shoulder with a tender "farewell", Sam moved off, and Frodo stepped forward, face grave.
"My dear Bramblerose…" he started, but the fox-maiden cut him off. She clumsily pulled off the thick scarf, and handed it gently to the startled hobbit.
"Your…late birthday present." Bramblerose admitted, with a little smile, eyes firmly fixed on her curling toes.
"If you're going on a long journey…please take this. It'll keep you warm."
Frodo's gaze turned to the soft scarf, the wool dyed a rich blue that seemed to echo the morning skies. With a genuine smile, he carefully folded it and placed it into his small bag.
"It will, thanks to you."
"It is nothing…" Hazel eyes met blue and Bramblerose felt her heart stop. 'A long journey lies ahead of him' came the whispered thought. ' …longer than he fully understands.'
Slender hands found their way to his cloak and she pretended to straighten it, but found them resting over his heart. Frodo, himself drinking in this moment, the way her eyes were closed, as though in silent prayer, and the way the pale light made her appear to be something of enchantment.
Their heads were bent, temples brushing as they stood closely for a moment longer. Finally, Frodo clasped her hands with his own and backed away before releasing them, fingers sliding from being entwined.
He eventually ripped his gaze away and faced gentle Sam, who was waiting patiently.
"Lets go. The quicker we leave, the quicker we can come home"
A final parting wave and exchange of looks before the two hobbits were lost among the trees, on the road to one of the greatest adventures the world would ever witness.
Bramblerose remained where she stood, troubled by her thoughts and dreams. Where did these feelings come from? Shaking her head, the fox-maiden turned reluctantly and began to head back home, heart heavy.
Little did she know what lay in store for herself and friends yet to be made.