AN: Just to stay ahead of the game, I know that a few of these events are out of sequence with the movie, but I was writing this really late and I am now to lazy to change it so HA! Anyway review. Oh and by the way, if I haven't already said this, I can have a half-elf/half-hobbit if I want to because this is MY BLOOMIN' STORY!!! And her magic isn't inside her you morons! It's inside her necklace! If you will please let the story continue without flaming my creative mind, I will explain all this to you! Thank you, now, on that happy note, on with the story.
Chapter Nine: The Song of the Wood-elvesIt was almost morning and Zilda was starting to dimly realize that she had gotten no sleep that night. After they had left Frodo's hole, they had stopped by Sam's to get all of his gear, including his precious cooking kit. After that they had taken to the trees, Gandalf leading with his horse, Frodo and Sam behind, Zilda in the rear. They had been a very solemn procession and Zilda was sure that if any passersby had seen them, they had probably wondered, what kind of people held funerals at night.
Their gloomy path had led them right past Zilda's home, where they stopped yet again, so she could get her bow, arrows, traveling cloak, and various trinkets, she thought they might need, such as flint and tinderbox, and extra pipe weed for the boys. She didn't touch the stuff herself, but she knew they liked to have the occasional pipe. Unbeknownst to Gandalf, (She was certain he wouldn't approve) she'd snuck in a book of Elvish and a history of the Rohirrim that she was working on. She also left a note for Pip, telling him she had gone on a journey and would be gone for quite sometime and to ask the Brandybucks for hospitality. She reminded him to lock up the hole and not to have too much fun celebrating her departure. She had snuck into his room, being careful to step over Merry, who was in the floor, and placed her note on his chest of drawers, where she was sure Pip would see it. Then, she'd leaned over and gently kissed her sleeping brother on the forehead, suddenly and painfully aware that it might be the last time she would ever see him. She had smoothed back his curls from his face one last time, then quickly and quietly, slipped out of the room.
The others were waiting patiently for her in the front hall. They all knew how difficult it was for her to leave her brother. When she had emerged, Gandalf had smiled loving at her.
"Come." He'd whispered. Zilda had then grabbed her pack and taken one last look around the smial to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Then, she had followed the others out the door, into the night, softly closing it behind her. As they had continued their walk through the woods, Frodo had wordlessly dropped back next to her and gently taken her hand. Suddenly, memories flooded through her from earlier that day. The kiss and Gandalf's disturbing question began to plague her mind. Did she love Frodo? Or worse yet, did he really love her? If she didn't love him, then why had she come on this foolish quest? But if she did love him, then why did she suddenly feel so confused and frightened? Fear had begun to worm its way into her soul. However, she didn't let go of Frodo's hand, but instead squeezed it tighter for the comfort it gave her to have a friend. They had walked like that until now, daybreak. Gandalf called them all around him.
"Be careful, all of you. The enemy has many spies in his service, birds, beasts." He looked at Frodo, "Is it safe?" Frodo put a hand over his pocket, which Zilda knew held the ring, "Never put it on for the minions of the Dark Lord will be drawn to its power. Always remember Frodo the ring is trying to get back to its Master. It wants to be found." Then, with an agility and swiftness that denied his age, Gandalf mounted his horse.
"Wait!" Zilda cried, "You're leaving us again?"
"I must. Zilda, if you encounter great danger, use the magic you have in your possession. You know of what I speak," Zilda nodded and clutched her necklace, under her tunic. "You are the only true protection they have. Remember, make for Bree!" And with that he turned his horse and galloped away. The three companions stood still for a moment watching him go.
"Well that's just great." Zilda said, breaking the silence, turning to the two hobbit-boys, "I certainly hope one of you two knows the way to Bree. I may be a great warrior, but that doesn't mean I can find my way in the middle of the woods!"
Frodo laughed and stepped up, putting his arm around her shoulders, "Come on. Its this way." Together, the three friends continued their journey, the gloom of the night before melting away with the morning mist. They walked for about thirty minutes in pleasant silence, through the forest, listening to the sounds of the woodland creatures waking. After that, they came upon a field that Frodo insisted they had to cross before they had breakfast. They were just trudging into a field of corn when Zilda saw Sam stop. She turned around, concerned.
"What is it, Sam?"
Sam looked about with a sad and frightened look on his face, "This is it."
Frodo turned back around, "This is what?"
"If I go one step further, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been." Sam said with despair. Zilda smiled at his innocence.
"Sam, did you really expect it to be any different?" She didn't say it in a condescending tone, but with compassion and kindness.
Frodo smiled, walked back and put an arm around his friend's shoulder, "Come on, Sam." Slowly, they began to put one foot in front of the other until they were well into the cornrows, Zilda trailing, "Remember what Bilbo used to say," Zilda smiled, already knowing which bit of advice was coming next and quoted it with Frodo,
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might get swept off to."
They reached the edge of the field and entered a little grove of trees before Sam insisted that it was now time for breakfast. They found a large tree with sprawling branches and Sam set up a temporary kitchen underneath it. As Zilda had suspected, he had forgotten his tinderbox and Zilda got to come to the rescue, producing hers from her pack with a dramatic flair. Sam took it gratefully.
"Yes, yes, I know, what would you do without me?" Zilda gloated, pulling her history out of her pack and leaning against the trunk of the tree, "By the way, Sam, don't cook me anything. I'll wait 'till second breakfast."
"Actually, Zilda, I hadn't planned on stopping for second breakfast." Frodo announced from his perch about five feet from the ground. Sam looked like he might have a heart attack.
"But, Mr. Frodo! You'll faint on the way if you don't eat well."
"Sam, I haven't taken second breakfast in two years. I think I'll be fine." Sam didn't look at all convinced.
"Well, if that's the case, Sam, better cook me a few of those sausages." Zilda said, opening her book and immediately becoming engrossed in the life and doings of Helm Hammerhand and the people of the land of Rohan. Sam scowled, but threw three more sausages on the pan.
The minutes passed, Sam cooking, Zilda reading her book and Frodo lazily blowing smoke rings. If she hadn't been so immersed in her history, Zilda might have heard the singing first, but as it was, Frodo was the one who sat up at the sound.
"Sam, Zilda listen." He said it with such intensity, that the two stopped what they were doing immediately and perked up their ears. They all smiled, with delight.
"Wood-elves!" Frodo and she whispered at the same time. Quick as a wink, Zilda closed her book, Sam put out his fire and Frodo emptied his pipe, storing it in his pack. They all took off through the woods in the direction of the song, as silently as they could. Then, there they were. The three friends dropped behind a rotted log, eyes glued to the scene before them. The elves made their way through the woods in a straight line, some walking, some riding proud, white horses, all glowing with their own inner beauty and magic. Zilda's hand closed over her pendant and when she looked down, it was glowing with the same faint iridescence.
The song they sang, worked it's magic on their hearts making them want to get up and dance, and yet at the same time they wanted to cry it was so very sad. Zilda even forgot to try and interpret the words. Besides, who could interpret pure emotion? That was what it was, raw feeling from the very innermost part of the heart.
"They're going to the harbor beyond the White Towers." Frodo whispered, "To the Grey Havens."
"I don't know why." Sam whispered, choking on his words, "It makes me sad."
"They're tired." Was all Zilda said, in a hushed whisper, full of emotion, "Exhausted." Then she got up and went back to the tree where breakfast was waiting. The two boys followed close behind, now solemn again, but in a different way. Not the kind of last night, gloomy and panicked, but more respectful and peaceful. It was a wonderful stillness. They ate their breakfast and silently gathered their things together, ready now to take the next step in their journey, their ears and hearts filled with the song of the Wood-elves.