CHAPTER FOUR: The crow with the shifty eyes
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Merry whistled a happy little tune as they journeyed down the path of yellow vegetables. His mood was quite happy and gleeful, and he felt there was absolutely nothing that could bring him down. Sam, however, felt completely different. He would jump at ever sound picked up by his sharp ears, shiver at every cool wind. He had every right to feel nervous, for the forest became fairly thicker, the animals rather meaner, and the shadows relatively creepier as they traveled.
Unfortunately, none seemed to notice the fact that the trail of vegetables became more and more scarce the further they traveled.
"I don't like this one bit, Mister Frodo," Sam muttered quietly, eyeing a queer looking fox at the side of their twisted little path. "We are beginning to travel deeper into the forest. The animals are staring."
"Let them stare; they do us no harm," Frodo reassured, but truth be told, he was even more edgy than Sam. Perhaps he was delusional from fear at the time, but the hobbit absolutely swore that he saw a tree glower at them as they crossed.
Sam shook his head, knowing better than to ignore his instincts. To do so often brought dire consequences. "I don't like this one bit. And as the old Gaffer used to say, 'Trust an animal with shifty eyes, and it'll be the ends of you, Samwise.' There'd be plenty of shifty-eyed animals spotted here, yessiree."
A snort from Merry was his reply. "Codswallop, Sam!" he laughed, determined not to let anything ruin his perfectly good mood. "Animals are our friends!"
"The only good animal is one served on a plate, with garlic and plenty of butter," Frodo grinned jokingly. His witty remark was responded by a loud protest from his stomach, reminding him that he had slept through second breakfast that morning. Pushing the hunger aside (they were quickly running low on rations), he took a deep breath and continued on as if nothing happened.
Still unconvinced, Sam frowned. "I don't know, Merry. That crow over there's been shifty-eyed at us for a long time now. Something tells me he's up to no good." Bravely, he glared back at the black bird perched on a gnarled tree. The crow cawed at him mockingly.
"But birds don't shift their eyes," Merry pointed out.
The crow blinked and flew away after Merry's comment, almost as if it understood. "Ah, but that's what they make you think," Sam returned his attention to Merry. He narrowed his eyes to slits before he spoke, "Beware! Just when you're not looking, BAM! The smarmy weasel has you right where it wants you."
Merry raised an eyebrow, allowing Sam to continue.
The hobbit lowered his voice considerably. "It'll be the ends of you, Meriadoc Brandybuck. It'll be the ends of you," he warned.
The creepy tone earned him a strange stare. "You're a rather queer one, Sam," Merry said.
"I'm cautious," he corrected as-a-matter-of-factly. "There's a difference."
Merry's argument was cut off rudely by a loud shriek in the air. The two stopped arguing long enough to see Frodo with that deer-in-the-headlights look he was so famous for, running ahead of them in frenzy. The hobbit waved his hands in the air like a madman, while poor Sam and Merry pondered on what to think of it.
A flock of crows fluttered off when they saw the mad hobbit approaching, each with an ear of corn in their claws. Frodo stopped abruptly, turned around and faced the two of them staring. "Fools! The crows have taken off with the remains of our corn trail!"
"Impossible!" Merry exclaimed, running beside Frodo. True enough, there was no sight of vegetables as far as they could see. Just when he thought things were going to be smooth.
Shaking his head in disbelief and disappointment, he sighed deeply and flopped down on the floor once more. Again, he had lost all hope for his friend. This journey was beginning to grow tiresome.
In spite of the situation, Sam couldn't hide the growing grin on his face. " 'Trust an animal with shifty eyes–' "
"Shut up, Sam," both Frodo and Merry shot back.
* * *
A long silence passed, and Pippin dared not move even when the two glaring eyes disappeared from his sight. He heard shuffling, loud rumbling, some snapping and cracking, and then all was silent once more. Pippin was growing increasingly weary of being robbed of his sight. Though being temporarily blind did sharpen his other senses, he still longed for the moment he would be able to see dangers before they approach him.
His wish was granted. A crackling inferno blazed before him, setting a pile of dry brush alight. Light filled the dark cave once more, and Pippin was relieved. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision, but his relief quickly dissolved away when he saw the red dragon standing before him as tall as a tower.
The dragon stood a good few stories higher than the little hobbit, glaring down at him as if Pippin were but an insect. The poor hobbit could not tell if it were hungry, or merely curious at the intruder, but judging from the glint of annoyance seen in his eyes, Pippin could clearly tell that he was not a wanted visitor in the cave.
Without hesitating, the dragon snapped at Pippin faster than the hobbit's eyes could catch. He blinked as his heart skipped a beat, and then opened his eyes to see that he was still standing. Breathing a sigh of relief because his head was still intact with his neck and body, Pippin dared to face the creature again.
Snapping at Pippin was a mere warning from the dragon. Clearly, he was not welcomed. The hobbit screamed when the beast lunged towards him, baring its teeth the size of Pippin himself. Spinning around, the Took ran for his life in sheer panic. Thundering from the giant beast's footsteps made the insides of the cave shake violently, the loose crumbles tumbling from their nests and onto the ground.
What happened next was purely luck. From the far, far distance, Pippin spotted a small glint of light. It was the entrance, or in this case, the exit, to the cave. His heart would have jumped for joy, if it were not pounding from terror at the moment. Gathering all his remaining strength, he pushed away all his doubts and cleared his mind to run towards the light.
With each step the dragon took, the earth would quake fiercely. More and more rocks tumbled to the ground, each one bigger than the last. Pippin realized that he needed to escape the cave fast. It was quickly falling apart from the disturbance, and would remain safe no longer. Dust blocked his vision and filled his eyes with tears, but he ignored them as best as he could. The only thing in his mind was the light before him, growing closer and closer with every second.
Right behind him, he heard large boulders collapse onto the floor of the cave noisily. It was ready to crumble to pieces any moment; there wasn't a breath to waste. The exit was a step away. Pippin sprinted as fast as his legs could take him, and leapt out into the open. Fresh air filled his lungs immediately as the hobbit tumbled onto the soft grass, relief charging through his every limb.
But he was not out of trouble just yet. He turned to lie on his back when he suddenly remembered that there was still a dragon on his heels. How could he have been so folly to forget such a fact? Quickly sitting up, the Took soon realized it was too late. The red beast was still running towards him, his grin replaced with a snarl of disgust.
The dragon opened its large jaws and lunged towards Pippin, ready to devour the poor hobbit whole. In reflex, Pippin turned and fruitlessly shielded his body with his arms, in his mind saying farewell to his family and friends. "The multi-chaptered story of Peregrin Took ends here," he mumbled as he squeezed his eyes shut awaiting his fate.
A loud roar rang in his ears, and then more crashing and shattering. A long moment passed, and Pippin coughed in reaction to the dust that was stirred up. Then, he paused. "If I am dead, why am I coughing?" he pondered aloud as he slowly opened one eye, then the other.
Blinking vacantly for a long while, Pippin let his thoughts overtake himself. He placed his hands before his view and turned them, just to check if he had become a spirit of some sort. He hadn't; he was still fortunately whole. Subconsciously patting his body down to check for injuries, Pippin felt like leaping up in the air in joy. "By the magic mushrooms of the Shire, I am alive!" he exclaimed, grinning like a fool.
But he was not so sure that the same could be said for the beast. Pippin's heart stopped when he saw the dragon in front of him, his head rested on the ground and its face scrunched up as in a great deal of pain. Piled on top of the beast's body from the head down were heaps and mounds of rocks, all shapes and sizes. The cave had crashed onto the beast, wounding if not killing it.
Though the dragon wanted to eat him as a small snack previously, Pippin felt a great amount of pity for the creature. After all, it was he who had entered the beast's home, though it was unintentional. And he was merely food to the dragon. There were no feelings of hatred involved.
What he did next, Pippin could not explain. Slowly and cautiously, the hobbit approached the laying beast. It was still alive. Its hot breath could still be felt on Pippin's bare skin as he drew nearer. He stared at the dragon for the longest time, watching its body rise up and down, and its nostrils flare with every struggled breath. Slowly, Pippin reached out with a steady hand to the snout of the dragon.
He knew better than to act out of curiosity, but then again mischief was his middle name; he felt it necessary to live up to that title. When his hand made contact with the hard, leathery skin, he felt slightly relieved that the fiery creature did not snap off his hand upon touch. In fact, he was quite surprised that he was doing this in the first place.
"How are you doing?" he asked, smiling to the dragon.
It opened one eye slightly in reaction to the question. A small groan escaped its mouth.
"I wish I can say that I know how you feel, but I've never had a cave collapse on me before," Pippin laughed. It felt good to be talking to someone again, even though he wasn't sure if the dragon even understood what was being said to him.
The dragon closed its eye again, and sighed.
Pippin's heart wept for the creature. It was a sad sight to see such a rare and magnificent animal pass away right before him. And what the hobbit did next surprised even himself. He sat down right next to the head of the beast, patted him on the side gently, and smiled. "Don't you worry your ferocious little head off. Pip' won't let you down," he reassured.
Then, to himself, he sighed. Truth be told, he had no idea how to save the beast himself.
* * *
SHOUTS!
Talking Hawk: I think voyage works for land too... hopefully. But if it bugs you too much, I'll change it to "trip" or something else... :) Thank you for the image of the hobbits linking arms and skipping... never thought of it that way, but it sure brought a smile to my face.
????: Thank you, thank you... I'm not a class clown, but I DO go to clown college. ;)
Pilot3001: Don't we all love Sam?
chloe and friends: The dragon eating Pippin is a possibility, but I think its more likely that Pippin eats the dragon.
Cheysuli: The hobbits are young, before they came of age... 20something? Never paid too much attention to nit-picky details like these... I guess I should have, eh?
Adrienne D: Poor Pippin indeed! I wouldn't feel safe with Sam, Frodo, and Merry as my saviours either...
Anodien: Pippin IS cute, or at least I think so! I can listen to him talk with that accent all day...
Pip Morgan and Race skylark: Will do! Thanks for reviewing.
Darth Flirt: Awesome s/n. The "special mushrooms" line was given by my English teacher, who asked me that same question. Like I said... clown college. Sigh.