Hello everyone! Guess what? It's time for me to do some shameless plugging!
Since I published Chapter 7, I have written six other things. Three of them
are poems (and one of them is actually about something other than
hobbits!!! :O !) and the other three are two fluff-fics: "A Hobbit's Ode to
the Creation of the Donut" and "Sam's Farewell to the Beer-Barrel in the
Cellar" and a really angsty fic with two chapters called "Friend." So, it
is your obligation, yes, every single one of you, to read and review my
lovely stories...
And now that that's out of the way...
Yellowrose- ::blushes:: I just decided that I should have the Mouth of Sauron in there because he gets to say stuff like, "Thou art a fool!" I loooooove stuff like that... don't ask why, because I don't know... And as for the italics, my old computer did not have that on the page, but I have gotten a new one and, yes, now I have the ability to italicize. ::Go new computer, go!::
Laurajslr- as I always say, "Computers are made to be broken :P ." I'm glad you think I'm changing for the better; I was just worried that I was sounding too wordy, which does happen sometimes. I was worried that I was beginning to sound like the sorts of writers who try to force themselves to sound eloquent but end up sounding stupid. :P... I hate reading stuff like that! I believe my exams were all good, except for math. O, how I despise Geometry! This chapter has some sad parts, but as a whole, I do not believe that it is as sad as some of the previous and/or upcoming chapters. If you think this fic is depressing now... just you wait... I think the worst thing is going to be that just when everything seems to be heading in the direction of a happy ending... something bad happens. Just felt like dampening your spirits. I have been thinking about the whole torture thing, and I believe I am going to take your advice. I was going to describe Sam's mental anguish more when he was in his cell by himself, but, yeah, I'll just combine them. O, and I'm glad you liked the poem. I'll admit, I like Shakespeare more than most people, but I don't like all of his stuff. Romeo and Juliet made me want to barf. I really only like his sonnets, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and the Tempest. And I've written way too much and really must continue.
FrodoBaggins87- That's quite alright. If you think this is dark, it's nothing compared to what's coming, so it's probably a good idea for you to leave now if you have a weak constitution :P. It's really not going to be bloody/gruesome, if that's what your scared of. I'm really going to be focusing more on the dark emotions of the characters. I also appreciate you telling me that you aren't reading anymore instead of leaving me to wonder what happened to you, which is a brave thing to do (. Maybe you can read it when I'm all done with it, because the suspense is probably the worst part. Frodo is still waging an eternal battle, and is really more of a pawn than you might think. So maybe if you read everything together you cannot be so angry at Frodo, who you seem to hold in high regard, judging by your name. O, well. Goodbye, at least for now.
AuraMaiden- Thanks for your praise! You needn't feel sorry for hurting for poor Sam. That's what you readers are supposed to do. It is I, the author, who has to remain cold and unfeeling. Yeah, as I told Laura, I'm not going for the JWT. (If you read Skye12's review, you'll discover why.)
Pip4- I'm glad you're enjoying it. I live to please! (not really :P) Again, JWT is out of the question, and yeah I think I've heard about that kind of torture too. O, how I hate talking about torture! ::shivers::
Skye12- see, this is why you are my favorite author: you can be eloquent even when you are merely talking about failing an algebra test (I hope it didn't go as badly as you thought... please tell me it didn't...) ::blush::::blush::::blush::::blush::::blush::::BLUSH::!!!!! That is certainly high praise, coming from you! (grrrr... my stupid grammar check on my computer said that it was wrong when I put "laid" in that line, and said that I should put "lain." But there you go. I've always hated computers, and here is yet another reason to add to my already long list.) I really wasn't using that line as a direct description of his eyes, (I tend to avoid talking about them, for the exact reason that you said that you hate most of the long, drawling descriptions of his "blue orbs") but more so as his mental struggle taking a physical manifestation. But, whatever. I'm glad you liked it! And, wow, after that description of JWT, I am certainly not going to use it! And, you know, it's perfectly fine to be long-winded... just look at me!
Forever Young- yeah, Laurajslr suggested the same thing, and I think I'm going to do that. As for the movie, Elijah Wood stars in it beside Mel Gibson and Jamie Lee Curtis. It should be available at your local library.
ElegantArrow- yes, that is pretty much what I am going to do. There are going to be some flashbacks and stuff... poor Sam is in for a rough time, but not an R-rated rough time, if I have anything to do with it.
Socrates- well, I have pretty much decided what I am going to do, so wait and see!
----
This chapter is rather short, and I do not like it very much, since I do not think I am nearly as good with these characters as I am with Frodo and Sam. Tips on how to improve Merry's character are greatly appreciated. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
Chapter 8: A Bitter Welcome
"I fear our doom is near at hand," said Eowyn, her voice but a hoarse whisper, and yet as cutting as a blade. "The darkness might have lifted from the sky, and yet it still lies heavy on my heart, though I know not why. This bright day is but a cheat; a deadly mockery of us and our hope."
"Is it any wonder that you have cloaked yourself in the night?" asked Faramir lightly, referring to the glimmering cloak of deepest blue which he had draped about her elegant shoulders. Of old, it had belonged to his mother. He closed his eyes and sighed, praying that Eowyn did not share in her tragic fate. Despite his grim thoughts, he continued, "You ought not despise hope, even if it is false, for without it, we would have nothing to strive or to live for. Certainly, we would go mad, without any hope to cling to... as did my father," he added quietly, casting his eyes to the ground.
Was that a tear in his eye, or was it merely another trick of the sunlight? wondered Eowyn sadly. She placed her hand in his and said, trying to divert his mind from its sorrows, "Merry was up and about today. He is doing much better, although he is still bitter that his young companion went to battle without him."
Faramir thought that he caught a hint of a smile gracing her beautiful visage, as she shook her head fondly. Putting his arm about her waist, he said, "That halfling reminds me of someone."
Now he definitely saw a smile there, soft and sweet. "Indeed," she agreed, "which was one of the reasons I took to him as I did. He has a true heart and a cunning mind, and he is noble. I could not have asked for a more worthy companion in battle." Suddenly her smile faltered, as grim thoughts played through her mind. "He has his heart set on being a fool now, however, or so it would seem. Merry has taken comfort in the brightness of the day, thinking that the day will soon come when he will see young Pippin. He was in the garden today, prancing about like a child, and tugging on my sleeve (can you imagine?) and asking me, if Pippin should come back today, would he be well enough to ride out and meet him? I told him that I did not know, for it was all I could think to say. Merry proceeded to smile widely and told me, with a great amount of surety, that he knew that he and Pippin were going to be together soon. I told him, rather severely, that he knew no such thing, but he just laughed and said that he could feel it inside of him. Curse this sunlight! Will it so soon drive us all to madness?"
But even as Faramir searched for a way to respond to the lady's grim words, trumpets blazed at the gate, heralding the coming of Aragorn and his company. Eowyn looked to him with shining eyes, daring to hope. Without a word passing between them, they headed down the stairs to the gate.
Not a minute had past when they heard a pair of feet scampering up eagerly behind them. "Greetings, Merry," said Eowyn evenly, without even looking back.
"My Lady!" he puffed in response, all out of breath and fairly panting. "My, you do walk fast!"
"In order to prevent furry little creatures from scurrying along at my feet, good sir. Ah, well, I see that you cannot be dissuaded, so I suppose I can find it in my heart to lessen my pace. What is it that you want?"
Merry, not put off by her words in the slightest, said, with a little hop on one foot for good measure, "Did you see, my lady? They've come! It is as I have said all along! Pippin came back, he did!"
"Need you gloat, Master Halfling? I am aware that it is not very often that I am mistaken, but you ought not taunt me!"
"My sincerest apologies! I forgot how sensitive you were, my dear Lady Eowyn! Pray, do not weep!"
Eowyn swirled around and made a valiant attempt to strike him, but Merry ducked the blow easily and laughed, "Your reflexes seem to have slowed up! Well, that is what comes of lying in bed all day for weeks on end! A pity, really."
Perhaps Merry was lucky that Eowyn was distracted, for she very well may have throttled him, but he never thought of it in that manner. He saw Eowyn put her hand to her mouth and Faramir lower his head despairingly. "What's wrong? What is it?" he asked, fear welling up in his heart, which was suddenly racing, pounding as if it was attempting to free itself from his chest. Dread spread over his body, numbing him, and yet making his limbs tingle with a violent energy. "Pip?"
He could not see, so he angrily shoved his way through the small crowd that had gathered around the company. "Get out of my way! Pippin!"
And there he was, lying on the ground, face pale as ice, eyes closed, and hands folded neatly on his chest. But he was dead, clearly dead. His little Pippin, dead.
For a moment, to Merry, it seemed the world would shatter, that the high shining towers of Minas Tirith, in all their glory, would come crashing down upon him, surely unable to stand on their foundations when such a soul had left them behind, never again to stand so bravely upon their high walls. But the mountains of into the distance did not break like shattered glass, and so it seemed the only thing to collapse was Merry himself, who fell to his knees in shock. He had been so happy... so filled with joy... only for it to end like this, rudely and abruptly, those moments scattered behind him like rose petals on the wind.
No, it could not be! Surely, surely, Pippin was not dead. He could not die, not when he had inside himself so much life. He was always a light; a light that could not be quenched, could not! "Pip? Pippin? Wake up, Pip. I'm here now, so you needn't worry. Please, I'm here! PIPPIN!"
Merry could not take it anymore, he just couldn't! Darkness clouded his vision, so that when he fell to the ground he could not see the white arms that enveloped him.
-----
Sometime later, he was pulled out of his peaceful abyss by those same arms, and by a soothing voice, which did naught to comfort the distraught hobbit. He blinked, and slowly the darkness receded, and he was looking at a Gandalf older and more sorrowful than the one to whom he had said his farewells mere days ago. His head spun painfully. Was it only days ago that Pippin had sat beside him, upon this very bed that had become his prison, and told him not to fret, and promised that they would be together soon? "He promised..." Merry choked, and began to sob. Thankfully, Gandalf did not ask what he was speaking of, for Meriadoc had not the heart to explain his tempest of emotions to the wizened wizard. Gandalf sat quietly and waited for the storm to pass. When it had, and there were naught but some scattered raindrops left to fall, Merry asked in a hoarse whisper, "How?"
Gandalf's eyes shifted uncomfortably, as he searched for a way to tell Merry what had come to pass.
"Gandalf?"
The wizard's only response was the furrowing of his brows.
Merry was suddenly sitting up and shouting angrily, "Tell me! How is it that you live and he does not?"
And so, hesitantly, Gandalf acquiesced.
As Mithrandir recounted the tragic tale, Merry's sadness was slowly but surely replaced by a deep and burning rage. Gandalf concluded, "There was nothing we could do for poor Sam. He will pay even more dearly than Pippin for his foolishness, I fear." Foolishness. The word echoed dimly in Merry's head. It was true; Sam and Pippin were both fools for having mercy upon Frodo, who was worse than a traitor. He would not make the same mistake. He would kill Frodo before he died, he swore to himself. He would avenge Pippin's death; no matter what consequences he was forced to endure.
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As I said, I am not overly fond of this chapter, although I was glad I could lighten the mood for a couple of paragraphs before I returned to my dark and dreary tale. Read and review, please!
And now that that's out of the way...
Yellowrose- ::blushes:: I just decided that I should have the Mouth of Sauron in there because he gets to say stuff like, "Thou art a fool!" I loooooove stuff like that... don't ask why, because I don't know... And as for the italics, my old computer did not have that on the page, but I have gotten a new one and, yes, now I have the ability to italicize. ::Go new computer, go!::
Laurajslr- as I always say, "Computers are made to be broken :P ." I'm glad you think I'm changing for the better; I was just worried that I was sounding too wordy, which does happen sometimes. I was worried that I was beginning to sound like the sorts of writers who try to force themselves to sound eloquent but end up sounding stupid. :P... I hate reading stuff like that! I believe my exams were all good, except for math. O, how I despise Geometry! This chapter has some sad parts, but as a whole, I do not believe that it is as sad as some of the previous and/or upcoming chapters. If you think this fic is depressing now... just you wait... I think the worst thing is going to be that just when everything seems to be heading in the direction of a happy ending... something bad happens. Just felt like dampening your spirits. I have been thinking about the whole torture thing, and I believe I am going to take your advice. I was going to describe Sam's mental anguish more when he was in his cell by himself, but, yeah, I'll just combine them. O, and I'm glad you liked the poem. I'll admit, I like Shakespeare more than most people, but I don't like all of his stuff. Romeo and Juliet made me want to barf. I really only like his sonnets, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and the Tempest. And I've written way too much and really must continue.
FrodoBaggins87- That's quite alright. If you think this is dark, it's nothing compared to what's coming, so it's probably a good idea for you to leave now if you have a weak constitution :P. It's really not going to be bloody/gruesome, if that's what your scared of. I'm really going to be focusing more on the dark emotions of the characters. I also appreciate you telling me that you aren't reading anymore instead of leaving me to wonder what happened to you, which is a brave thing to do (. Maybe you can read it when I'm all done with it, because the suspense is probably the worst part. Frodo is still waging an eternal battle, and is really more of a pawn than you might think. So maybe if you read everything together you cannot be so angry at Frodo, who you seem to hold in high regard, judging by your name. O, well. Goodbye, at least for now.
AuraMaiden- Thanks for your praise! You needn't feel sorry for hurting for poor Sam. That's what you readers are supposed to do. It is I, the author, who has to remain cold and unfeeling. Yeah, as I told Laura, I'm not going for the JWT. (If you read Skye12's review, you'll discover why.)
Pip4- I'm glad you're enjoying it. I live to please! (not really :P) Again, JWT is out of the question, and yeah I think I've heard about that kind of torture too. O, how I hate talking about torture! ::shivers::
Skye12- see, this is why you are my favorite author: you can be eloquent even when you are merely talking about failing an algebra test (I hope it didn't go as badly as you thought... please tell me it didn't...) ::blush::::blush::::blush::::blush::::blush::::BLUSH::!!!!! That is certainly high praise, coming from you! (grrrr... my stupid grammar check on my computer said that it was wrong when I put "laid" in that line, and said that I should put "lain." But there you go. I've always hated computers, and here is yet another reason to add to my already long list.) I really wasn't using that line as a direct description of his eyes, (I tend to avoid talking about them, for the exact reason that you said that you hate most of the long, drawling descriptions of his "blue orbs") but more so as his mental struggle taking a physical manifestation. But, whatever. I'm glad you liked it! And, wow, after that description of JWT, I am certainly not going to use it! And, you know, it's perfectly fine to be long-winded... just look at me!
Forever Young- yeah, Laurajslr suggested the same thing, and I think I'm going to do that. As for the movie, Elijah Wood stars in it beside Mel Gibson and Jamie Lee Curtis. It should be available at your local library.
ElegantArrow- yes, that is pretty much what I am going to do. There are going to be some flashbacks and stuff... poor Sam is in for a rough time, but not an R-rated rough time, if I have anything to do with it.
Socrates- well, I have pretty much decided what I am going to do, so wait and see!
----
This chapter is rather short, and I do not like it very much, since I do not think I am nearly as good with these characters as I am with Frodo and Sam. Tips on how to improve Merry's character are greatly appreciated. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
Chapter 8: A Bitter Welcome
"I fear our doom is near at hand," said Eowyn, her voice but a hoarse whisper, and yet as cutting as a blade. "The darkness might have lifted from the sky, and yet it still lies heavy on my heart, though I know not why. This bright day is but a cheat; a deadly mockery of us and our hope."
"Is it any wonder that you have cloaked yourself in the night?" asked Faramir lightly, referring to the glimmering cloak of deepest blue which he had draped about her elegant shoulders. Of old, it had belonged to his mother. He closed his eyes and sighed, praying that Eowyn did not share in her tragic fate. Despite his grim thoughts, he continued, "You ought not despise hope, even if it is false, for without it, we would have nothing to strive or to live for. Certainly, we would go mad, without any hope to cling to... as did my father," he added quietly, casting his eyes to the ground.
Was that a tear in his eye, or was it merely another trick of the sunlight? wondered Eowyn sadly. She placed her hand in his and said, trying to divert his mind from its sorrows, "Merry was up and about today. He is doing much better, although he is still bitter that his young companion went to battle without him."
Faramir thought that he caught a hint of a smile gracing her beautiful visage, as she shook her head fondly. Putting his arm about her waist, he said, "That halfling reminds me of someone."
Now he definitely saw a smile there, soft and sweet. "Indeed," she agreed, "which was one of the reasons I took to him as I did. He has a true heart and a cunning mind, and he is noble. I could not have asked for a more worthy companion in battle." Suddenly her smile faltered, as grim thoughts played through her mind. "He has his heart set on being a fool now, however, or so it would seem. Merry has taken comfort in the brightness of the day, thinking that the day will soon come when he will see young Pippin. He was in the garden today, prancing about like a child, and tugging on my sleeve (can you imagine?) and asking me, if Pippin should come back today, would he be well enough to ride out and meet him? I told him that I did not know, for it was all I could think to say. Merry proceeded to smile widely and told me, with a great amount of surety, that he knew that he and Pippin were going to be together soon. I told him, rather severely, that he knew no such thing, but he just laughed and said that he could feel it inside of him. Curse this sunlight! Will it so soon drive us all to madness?"
But even as Faramir searched for a way to respond to the lady's grim words, trumpets blazed at the gate, heralding the coming of Aragorn and his company. Eowyn looked to him with shining eyes, daring to hope. Without a word passing between them, they headed down the stairs to the gate.
Not a minute had past when they heard a pair of feet scampering up eagerly behind them. "Greetings, Merry," said Eowyn evenly, without even looking back.
"My Lady!" he puffed in response, all out of breath and fairly panting. "My, you do walk fast!"
"In order to prevent furry little creatures from scurrying along at my feet, good sir. Ah, well, I see that you cannot be dissuaded, so I suppose I can find it in my heart to lessen my pace. What is it that you want?"
Merry, not put off by her words in the slightest, said, with a little hop on one foot for good measure, "Did you see, my lady? They've come! It is as I have said all along! Pippin came back, he did!"
"Need you gloat, Master Halfling? I am aware that it is not very often that I am mistaken, but you ought not taunt me!"
"My sincerest apologies! I forgot how sensitive you were, my dear Lady Eowyn! Pray, do not weep!"
Eowyn swirled around and made a valiant attempt to strike him, but Merry ducked the blow easily and laughed, "Your reflexes seem to have slowed up! Well, that is what comes of lying in bed all day for weeks on end! A pity, really."
Perhaps Merry was lucky that Eowyn was distracted, for she very well may have throttled him, but he never thought of it in that manner. He saw Eowyn put her hand to her mouth and Faramir lower his head despairingly. "What's wrong? What is it?" he asked, fear welling up in his heart, which was suddenly racing, pounding as if it was attempting to free itself from his chest. Dread spread over his body, numbing him, and yet making his limbs tingle with a violent energy. "Pip?"
He could not see, so he angrily shoved his way through the small crowd that had gathered around the company. "Get out of my way! Pippin!"
And there he was, lying on the ground, face pale as ice, eyes closed, and hands folded neatly on his chest. But he was dead, clearly dead. His little Pippin, dead.
For a moment, to Merry, it seemed the world would shatter, that the high shining towers of Minas Tirith, in all their glory, would come crashing down upon him, surely unable to stand on their foundations when such a soul had left them behind, never again to stand so bravely upon their high walls. But the mountains of into the distance did not break like shattered glass, and so it seemed the only thing to collapse was Merry himself, who fell to his knees in shock. He had been so happy... so filled with joy... only for it to end like this, rudely and abruptly, those moments scattered behind him like rose petals on the wind.
No, it could not be! Surely, surely, Pippin was not dead. He could not die, not when he had inside himself so much life. He was always a light; a light that could not be quenched, could not! "Pip? Pippin? Wake up, Pip. I'm here now, so you needn't worry. Please, I'm here! PIPPIN!"
Merry could not take it anymore, he just couldn't! Darkness clouded his vision, so that when he fell to the ground he could not see the white arms that enveloped him.
-----
Sometime later, he was pulled out of his peaceful abyss by those same arms, and by a soothing voice, which did naught to comfort the distraught hobbit. He blinked, and slowly the darkness receded, and he was looking at a Gandalf older and more sorrowful than the one to whom he had said his farewells mere days ago. His head spun painfully. Was it only days ago that Pippin had sat beside him, upon this very bed that had become his prison, and told him not to fret, and promised that they would be together soon? "He promised..." Merry choked, and began to sob. Thankfully, Gandalf did not ask what he was speaking of, for Meriadoc had not the heart to explain his tempest of emotions to the wizened wizard. Gandalf sat quietly and waited for the storm to pass. When it had, and there were naught but some scattered raindrops left to fall, Merry asked in a hoarse whisper, "How?"
Gandalf's eyes shifted uncomfortably, as he searched for a way to tell Merry what had come to pass.
"Gandalf?"
The wizard's only response was the furrowing of his brows.
Merry was suddenly sitting up and shouting angrily, "Tell me! How is it that you live and he does not?"
And so, hesitantly, Gandalf acquiesced.
As Mithrandir recounted the tragic tale, Merry's sadness was slowly but surely replaced by a deep and burning rage. Gandalf concluded, "There was nothing we could do for poor Sam. He will pay even more dearly than Pippin for his foolishness, I fear." Foolishness. The word echoed dimly in Merry's head. It was true; Sam and Pippin were both fools for having mercy upon Frodo, who was worse than a traitor. He would not make the same mistake. He would kill Frodo before he died, he swore to himself. He would avenge Pippin's death; no matter what consequences he was forced to endure.
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As I said, I am not overly fond of this chapter, although I was glad I could lighten the mood for a couple of paragraphs before I returned to my dark and dreary tale. Read and review, please!
