"Mmmhm."
Clae
felt her arm muscles swell as she tried pushing her head up from the
marble floor - no wait... the dusty ground she was lying on. Her eyes
are still partly closed, and her head is spinning from the blue light
that just swallowed her. She weakly stood up on her feet, with her
knees wobbling... as she dared to open her eyes and look around.
She
saw nothing but an endless cropfield and growing darkness swallowing
a setting sun.
Where am I? She frowned at the question
formed in her mind. Maybe the correct term is... Where on earth
am I? She shuffled her numb feet on the ground, as she decided to
follow a small dirt trail in the middle of the field leading to
nowhere. As she wandered hopelessly, north to south, she realized
that she has lost everything. Her retainers, her backpack, the Book
the old tattered man gave her... She realized she lost her only best
friend, Ash.
That Book. The thing that caused every clamor
and envy between their friendship. The root of all disaster. The one
thing she tried to obtain, and in the process... she lost Ash.
Now,
she's lost. Maybe, even forever lost. Dreaded things circled her mind
as she walked around in circles, trying not to panic. What if she was
walking in a field of man-eating poppies, and it just appeared like a
crop-field in shrinking daylight? What if there are some man-eating
Nazis hiding in the darkness of the bushes, waiting to pounce on her
and scalp her? What if she's not in Germany at all? And she's in the
woods of the Blair Witch that's just disguised as an innocent
cropfield! Will she ever get out alive? Will she ever see the tame
faces of her parents again? Will she ever see Ash, reconcile with
her, and play hardcore soccer with her again?
Will she ever
see the light of day?
These things poisoned her mind as she
walked feebly in the cold, with a migraine growing with it. She
crossed her arms and tried to hug herself, as the cold began to
spread all over her body. Despite her blurring vision due to her
increasing headache, she tried to peer farther than what her
near-sighted eyes could see... and she glimpsed flickers of
torch-light. Men. A gulp went down her throat, as she began to
stumble backwards, ready to break into a run. But the moment she
turned back, she heard the sound of growls and dangerous barking
right ahead of her. Hounds?!! She stood scrambling in one
place in a moment, panicking in the highest degree.
Torches
behind her back, and dogs forward. Where must she go?
She
closed her eyes and then looked east. The barking began to sound
clearer to her right. "Its now or never," she felt herself
mumble, as she finally broke into a run. Past trees, and past swaying
wheat stalks, she sprinted. But the end of the cropfield she cannot
see. And the way out she cannot reach. The dogs could have sensed her
movement, as her sneakers squeaked and broke east. The barking sounds
were right behind her. She tried to run faster... if she can only
outrun them... And upon an unfortunate stroke of luck, she tripped
over a stone and fell. Or... was that really a stone?
"Aaargh!"
a blood curdling scream came from the thing she just tripped
on.
"Aiee!" Clae answered back in shock, as she arose
from the dirt, nose bleeding.
She got up on her feet, and
stared at the small creature whimpering on the ground, seemingly
frightened by her prescence. "I'm sorry," she mustered as
she held out a hand to the small little boy, but he just cramped
himself near this small rock, avoiding both her hand and her
thoughtful gaze. The sound of footsteps grew closer. "Come on,"
Clae pushed, as she continued holding out her hand to the small boy.
"Burglar, trespasser or not, we have to get out of here before
those hounds get to us."
He looked up at her towering
figure with those brilliant green eyes, and huddled closer to the
rock in fear of her. Feet itching to run, Clae turned her back to the
boy and faced the howling dogs. Standing in front of the small
creature, she picked up a huge twig lying on the ground and waited
for the torch-light to glare in her eyes. Then, with an angry raging
look on her face, she turned around to face the little boy, who
quivered at her sight. "Please," a small voice escaped its
lips, afraid that Clae might raise the bar and make him run away by
force. "I beg you not to harm me."
A questioning
look distorted Clae's face. "Huh?"
A cry escaped his
lips, as a dog sudden sprang in the air, ready to attack him.
Recovering her wits, Clae swung the branch, and hit the hound
straight on the nose. It fell back on the ground rubbing its snout,
whimpering in fear. The little boy peered forward to watch Clae's
battle in amusement and awe. The brave girl turned to pick him up and
run, but she sudden fell back onto the ground, when another hound
leapt on her, and bit her exposed leg through tattered jeans.
"Aaaargh!" a cry broke from her, as the dog
continued pawing and tearing through her leg. She tried kicking it
away, but the pain increased, that her migraine worsened. The
creature stood up in defense of the girl who tried to rescue him, and
started kicking at the dog with his thick-soled feet to no avail,
getting only dangerous growls and grunts from the hound who still
held Clae's leg in its mouth.
The torch-lights appeared in the
clearing of the field. Another small creature just like the little
boy appeared, holding the lights. "Pippin!" he cried, as he
pulled the smaller one aside, who was busy trying to frighten the dog
away from an half-conscious Clae. "I told you not to return to
Farmer Maggot at sunset! The hounds are on the verge on a full moon,
I tell ya!" he whispered quickly, as he tried to pull Pippin
away.
The boy turned to his friend with the torch-lights and
said, "We can't leave her though!" He pointed to a bleeding
Clae, who was trying to reach for the branch with bleeding hands,
covered with bites from the hound. The boy with the torch peered at
her and whispered, "Who is she? She may be dangerous - " he
started, but Pippin exerted more effort to kick the hound away. "She
saved my life Merry! And if we don't save her now, she would surely
die!"
Clae's clenched fists loosened, as the dog started
pawing at her back. Blood mingled with the dust, and the girl's
breathing slowened. A realization was reflected through the bright
torchlight that Merry was holding. Then, nodding to Pippin, the other
boy grabbed the stick that fell from Clae's hands, and they charged
at the hound with full force, Pippin poking it in the eye and Merry
burning the hound's tail with his torch. The dog whimpered and
released the girl's leg, and bounded away with a burnt tail.
Merry
dropped his torch, and looked over the bleeding girl. "She's
coming down with it," he whispered. Pippin held the girls hand,
and felt her forehead that was smeared with dirt. "With what?"
he asked, puzzlingly. Merry examined her face with his small hands
and turned to Pippin with an answer, "With fever, silly! Look...
I don't know if we could take her, I probably doubt that she's no
child from the big people's town." The younger boy held the
girl's hands in his and whispered, "I think she's an elf. We
must save her, though. Please, Merry?"
The other boy
didn't seem to agree and said, "Who would take her in? None of
us could understand their language." Pippin's eyes brightened.
"But Frodo does! We could take her to Bag End! Frodo would have
enough supplies to help her. Hopefully."
Merry sighed, as
he hoisted the girl's arms over his shoulder. "I hope what
you're thinking is right, Pip," he whispered. Pippin just
answered back with a smile, as he helped carried the girl, and with a
run, they both made for the nearest town - Hobbiton.
Now,
the one who was supposed to be of help to Clae was all locked up by
himself in his home under the hill called Bag End, trying to avoid
relatives who might be up to nothing once again. But he was no match
to his unexpected visitor who was knocking over the front door,
slowly losing his patience. The little fellow just merely sat down
his chair, and tried to enjoy his afternoon tea, despite his
persistent visitor and the growing darkness.
"Lobelia
again most likely," he thought, running a hand throught those
thick dark curls of his, merely fingering his tea cup. "She must
have thought of something really nasty, and have come back again to
say it..." He went on with his tea calmly, longing to disappear,
till a stern, old man's hat appeared over his window.
"If
you don't let me in, Frodo Baggins, I shall blow your door right down
your hole and out through the hill," he said with a warning
chuckle.
"My dear Gandalf! Half a minute!" he cried,
running out of the room towards the door. "Forgive me, come in!
I had a thought that you might have been Lobelia! She has been
pestering me for days, and most of the time she has nothing good to
say." Gandalf gave another chuckle as he went in, sweeping his
pointy hat off his head. "I forgive you, my lad, I do," he
said, as he patted the young hobbit (well preseved for the age of 49)
on the shoulder. "I saw her sometime ago, walking towards
Bywater with a face that could have curdled fresh milk!"
Frodo
sighed and shook his head in disbelief. "She could have curdled
me! I longed to put on my ring and disappear..."
The
wizard, completely similar to that whom Clae and Ash have met,
frowned a bit and peered through the hobbits clear blue eyes. "Ah
yes, that ring. I am still trying to get information from that, and I
haven't resloved quite a few things yet..." Frodo looked
worriedly at him. "I could advice you to still keep it secret,
and none must still know about it till I return. I only came to visit
you to ask you about this... and have you seen your cousins?"
Frodo
blinked. "They must be off in Farmer Maggot's field again!"
He rushed to the door, fearing the swift sunset, with Gandalf hot on
his heels. He opened it... and gasped to see Meriadoc Brandybuck and
Peregrin Took sprawled on his doorstep, with dirt on their face. On
the ground they held a bloodied young girl... with a face growing
paler, and paler than the full moon. "Frodo!" Peregrin,
usually called Pip gasped, as he struggled to keep girl's arm around
his shoulders. "This young lass..."
Gandalf looked
out of the door, and his face looked grave. This made the younger
hobbits more nervous. "... needs your help." Merry
finished, as Frodo exchanged glances with the wizard whose worries
went beyond his reach.
"They have come. Go, take her
inside!"
Even with hesitation in his eyes, Frodo just
opened his door and let his cousins carry the girl in. "I hope
you're making a right decision, Gandalf..." he thought meekly.
