October 12, 1422

Chapter 7

"What in Middle Earth happened here?" Pippin sidled off the dock and stared agape at the total desolation of the West Havens.

"Yeah, what happened to the ships?" chimed in Merry.

"You are witnessing the arm of Morgoth. His minions leave nothing in their wake."

"Gandalf, you are speaking in riddles again." I said crossly. Hobbits aren't the most cheerful beings when jolted out of sleep.

Startled out of his sleep, Bilbo added, "Yes, old chap. What with the ruins here, I agree that we may come to the conclusion that Morgoth was here." Looking quite satisfied, Bilbo nodded off.

Glancing at him with envy and amusement, Aragorn spoke "Gandalf, you know I value your opinions. Where shall we be off?"

"Why, the Shire, of course," Gandalf looked surprised, and nearly tore off a bit of his beard when his head jerked up.

"Nay, Gondor first." Galadriel argued.

"Shire"

"Gondor"

"Shire"
"Gondor"

"Shire"

"Gondor"

"Would you two CUT IT OUT?" Celeborn seemed quite irritated, looking not unlike a fisherman whose fish keeps flailing around, slapping him in the face.

"No." they both replied, then looked revolted at the fact that they agreed with each other.

"Well, go argue in the corner. I weary of this debate." Arwen waved an impatient hand. "SOME people are mature enough to handle what I will say."

"Sorry." Both Gandalf and Galadriel looked rather sheepish.

"Righted by my granddaughter." Galadriel muttered. "Children these days are no longer respective of their elders."

"Well, I vote Shire." Merry spoke up. "I shan't be unhappy to see the Green Dragon once more."

"Humph. Well, have it your way." Suddenly, her eyes rolled. "THE ONE RING IS MINE! INSTEAD OF A DARK LORD YOU SHALL HAVE A DARK QUEEN TERRIBLE AND GREAT. ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR!!!!!!!"

'What?" she looked bewildered. "What's wrong?" now alarmed, she shrieked, "WHAT DID I SAY?"

"Calm down," Arwen laid a soothing arm on her grandmother. "It's nothing to be worried about. You just need rest."

Galadriel looked suspiciously at Arwen. "Celebrian's daughter, somehow I don't think you are telling me the truth.

"Don't you think the time is late? Oh, my" Arwen hurried her grandmother onto a horse. "We'd better get going," she pulled herself onto another horse and led it on.

"Queen Undomiel, wait up!" Merry and Pippin set their horses into a gallop mode.

"Wait for us!" King Elessar (alias, Strider, Aragorn, Estel, Dunedan, etc.)

"Yea, yea. And leave me behind," groaning and grumbling, I heaved myself onto a pony.

"What about me!!!!!!!!?????" I hollered, kicking up into a gallop. "I'm the point of this voyage!!!!"

"Hello, Butterbur. A pint of ale for four, and a mulled mead for two," Gandalf heaved himself onto a stool in The Prancing Pony.

"Gandalf! And, bless me, Strider too. Him with a gold crown and all."

Cirdan snorted, "So that's how Breelanders treat all royalty?"

In the background, Pippin and Merry sniggered.

"Anything for the Lady and the Lord?" Butterbur asked, bending over for the ale.

"Nay, nothing for us."

"Gandalf, do not you think we should depart soon?" I asked, anxious to get going.

"Frodo, dear lad. Worry not. We shall take leave as soon as possible."

"Hi, Nob, you lazy slowcoach!" Butterbur hollered through the window, overhearing our conversation. "Will you not put the ponies up for the night?"

Gandalf drained the rest of his mead, and said, "Good old Barley, get us some rooms, will you not?"

October 13, 1422

Chapter 8

In the afternoon, we finally departed as Gandalf waved and cried, "May your beer be enchanted for the best for the next score or so years!" and with that, he galloped off, with Pippin, Sam, Merry, and I trying vainly to surpass Shadowfax's speed. The rest of the company didn't even try to exceed the great stallion. That horse traveled with such fleetness of foot it would be unbelievable for any other creature.

We slowed down to a trot. I looked around, yet spot the Buckland Gate, I could not. As a matter of fact, spot anything I could not. That was until -

"Hoo, boy," Pippin gave a low whistle.

I couldn't blame him. I had finally spotted something, and let me tell you, it definitely would not have won any award for cleanliness. The Shire was boarded up; nails ancient with rust creaked and disintegrated as Aragorn touched the gate. Antique bones could have been stronger.

"King Elessar and Queen Evenstar have arrived! Where are your manners, fellow hobbits?" Merry bellowed loudly enough to probably jolt even Bilbo out of his sleep. And to top it off he burst a few rounds on his horn.

"Someone put us up for the night!" Pippin roared. "Hurry up, get going!"

"Mr. Pippin, is that you?" a meek voice spoke up.

"Why I don't believe it!" Pippin exclaimed. "Fatty, what happened?"

"Let me take you in for the night, and I'll explain tomorrow."

October 14, 1422

Chapter 9

"Fatty, what happened here?" Merry yawned and clambered off his ramshackle miserable excuse for a bed.

"Is it Saruman's doing?" Pippin's muffled voice came from underneath moth eaten pillows.

"Nay, Saruman 'tis gone, remember?" Sam argued.

"Sam? Is that you?"

"Why Mister Cotton!"

"How's my Rosie doing?" Farmer Tom Cotton asked.

"Just peachy. She'll be returning soon with Elanor." Sam replied.

"Sam, come here."

"Gaffer!"

"WHO? I AM SORRY, hic, BUT MY HEARING hic IS NOT WHAT IT hic USED TO BE hic!"

"Gaffer, it's me, your Sam."

"SAM? SAM WHO? OHHH, THAT SAM! COME GIVE YOUR OLD GAFFER A HUG," the Gaffer grabbed Pippin and nearly strangled him.

"Uh, Gaffer? I'm Sam. Not him." Sam hollered, stabbing a pudgy finger at his chest.

"Oh? Sorry Master Pippin."

"That's all right, Gaffer." Pippin massaged his bruised neck and waist.

"NOW LET'S TRY THAT AGAIN! SAM, COME GIVE YOUR OLD GAFFER A HUG!" this time, however, he grabbed Gandalf.

"Ham Gamgee, old chap. GET OFF OF ME!!!!" Gandalf roared, blowing out the few candles.

"Oh, Master Gandalf? I'm terribly sorry for my Gaffer's inconvenience. His sight is not what it used to be." Sam spoke quietly, a sudden contrast to his gaffer's.

"SAM! THERE YOU ARE!" the Gaffer hurled himself onto Sam. I think I might have heard some bones crunching.

"Gag, G-g-gaffer. It is please-gag-ent to see you again," Sam started choking.

"Now, see, here, Gamgee." Bilbo startled himself out of sleep. "Leave Master Sam alone. He's managed to get Frodo out of quite a few messes."

"MISTER FRODO!" the Gaffer exclaimed once more.

"Eh, hello, Gaffer." I edged carefully to the door, nearly plowing over-

"Why if it isn't Nibs!" Sam burst out, "Wait, where is everyone else?"

"Off to queer outlandish Buckland. The Tyrant scared 'em all off." Nibs replied.

"Tyrant? Tyrant who?" I looked as confused as possible.

"Why, Tyrant who rebuilt Mordor," Nibs was utterly flummoxed.

"Ohhhhh, that tyrant. You mean Mor-"

"Mr. Frodo, are you mad?" Nibs exclaimed, "Never mention that name," and to emphasize his point, a firm hand clamped on my mouth.

"Hmph, I humphnt mhmph thmpho mhemphtion hmphis nhmphame." I muttered unintelligibly.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," Gandalf responded mildly.

"Harumph. What I meant to say until somebody," at this I cast a meaningful glance at Nibs, "is that I didn't mean to mention his name."

Nibs turned a ripe tomato color and immediately started stammering.

"Oh, rubbish," scoffed Queen Undomiel, aiming a misjudged swing at Nibs. "How does it concern his affair whether we repeat his name or not?

"Because he will come and wreak havoc on our beautiful paradise, that's why," Nibs ducked the Queen's swing and jumped onto a haystack. "Besides, why should we say his name?"

"Out of all the pin headed ninnies, Nibs, you are the worst," declared Merry said, shaking the haystack. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Queen Arwen Evenstar," Nibs replied smugly.

"Also, if you call this junk pile a paradise, I hate to see a place of inferno," Pippin snorted, aiming a pitchfork at Nib's chest, "We didn't even pass the Green Dragon in Bywater. Mr. Gamgee, I thought you practically lived there."

"Yes, or so I says to myself. Just that- that- abnormally scummy dolt tore it down."

"Do you mean Morgoth?"

"Who else?"

"Hi, Gaffer, you're not yelling," Sam looked at him oddly.

"Oh, yes, sorry. It's quite a bother talking so loudly. I CAN'T HEAR DESPITE HOW IT SEEMS!!!!" he hollered, vanishing everyone's doubt, although a little shadow of distrust cornered my mind. The gaffer seemed oddly altered. How, I don't know. But quite frankly, it was rather disappointing, not to mention rather surprising. I was used to the gaffer being, well, more eccentric.

A/N- OH NO! I am approaching the end. Soon I will have to write!!!!! R&R I'M BEGGING YOU!!!! Note-this author suffers from SLORS (severe lack of reviews syndrome.)