Chapter 4: The Great Awakening

Gandalf paced impatiently before on of Bag End's great rooms, as Pippin sat beside him on the nearest chair, while Merry came in and out of the room, carrying a bowl of water and medical supplies. "Tell me again, Peregrin Took..." Ganadalf finally spoke after the door closed behind Merry for the fifth time. "You say that you found this girl in Farmer Maggot's field?" Pippin looked up at him nervously, and just nodded. "She saved me from the hounds that were chasing me... if I only had run away then I could have prevented the both of us from harm," he whispered, rubbing the bandages around his wrist that was bitten by one of the terriers.

Gandalf peered at him cautiously through bushy eyebrows, and continued pacing. "I planned for them to arrive together, how could they come separated?" he mumbled softly to himself, Pippin looking at him every now and then, trying to make out his words.

"Are you sure she is the only one you saw?" Gandalf asked.
"Yes sire, just her, me, Maggot and his terrifying hounds." he answered, swinging his hairy feet above the tall stool.

The wizard nodded and continued pacing like a caged tiger, till the bedroom door finally opened as Frodo stepped out. "She made it," he whispered as beads of sweat came down his forehead, his hands slightly bloodstained from all the bandaging he and Merry made. "But she's coming down with a slight fever right now, I won't say she would wake up tomorrow."

Gandalf nodded, and patted the hobbit on the back.
"You've done a great job, Frodo Baggins," he said firmly. "You've just saved the Cliffhanger."

Frodo's jaw dropped, as his right hand quietly slipped inside his pocket... "S-she... That child is the Cliffhanger?" he whispered in surprise. The wizard nodded quietly with an assuring smile. The hobbit looked down, as his hands were released from his pocket, as he looked back into the room. "Do all... prophecies come true, Gandalf?" he asked in a soft voice, as Pippin peered over his shoulder.

The wizard looked down in silence and glanced back at the hobbit.
"They were always meant to come true, little one."

With a silent nod, Frodo walked away, without looking back at Gandalf, Pippin... or the closed door behind them.

Clae slept in uneasy dreams. Voices and angry faces swirled in her mind... Ash persecuting her for believing in the old man's prophecies, Shea and her incompetent lies, her parents scolding her for being away for so long and asking for a reason for the blood running from her leg... That's when she suddenly stiffened up and curled into a sleeping postion. She must have been dead all that time.

But then, a ray of sunlight seemed to warm up her face.
Dead people don't feel, don't they?

Indeed, her whole body has stiffened. Some parts of them felt tight and warm, specifically her right arm and leg. But most of the pain she thought she had felt had slowly numbed out. Without opening her eyes, she could tell from the firm grip of her hand, that someone sat beside her, watching her. She wanted to yank her hand back, but she felt as if all her muscles are asleep... it must be better if she slept too...

Between gaps of uncertainty and silence, she felt soft fingers close upon her jaw, and a bowl of odd-tasting bittersweet something was drawn close to he mouth. She winced, she didn't like taking things she couldn't see or doesn't know about. The bowl was seemingly tipped, for the liquid portion to slip down her mouth. Disliking the sudden taste upon her tounge, she sputtered it out, much to the dismay of the hand that was supporting her.

"She wouldn't drink it," a hesitating and exhausted small voice said, as Clae felt the disappointingly sweet but terrifyingly bitter substance drawn away from her mouth. "Her fever is coming down, but she is still barely awake. Gandalf, what must I do with her?"

The young girl slowly opened her eyes, and surveyed her surroundings - a blur of soft brown. She found herself lying on a bed, with pillows propped up behind her head. A small creature with a mass of dark brown hair, the details she cannot make out, sat beside the bed she was lying on, holding hopelessly on a small silver cup containing golden-brown liquid - the honey she refused to drink. To her side, a tall dark figure hiding in the shadows, held her hand. She was supposed to be getting frightened of this individual just by now, but she doesn't know why she felt this kind of warm knowing comfort towards him.

"The travel from the realms of the unknown to Middle-Earth may wound her internally, and this wouldn't heal for days. patience, Frodo Baggins. After all, she's just a child." A deep consoling voice spoke beside her, as she felt the grip on her hand loosen slightly.

Her eyes began to clear, as figures around her started to come into picture. Suddenly, Clae's eyes recognized the figure that held her hand in a fatherly way. The wizened figures and the huge bushy beard... "Mithrandir?" she spoke weakly. Commotion errupted in the room. The creature with the mass of curly dark brown hair suddenly turned to her in surprise, flashing those eyes... those mortifyingly bright blue eyes towards her weak, pale ones... "She speaks!" he whispered in delight. "She'll make it!"

Clae suddenly felt unusual fear and amusement upon the words of the small creature. She felt fear and confusion in her heart... she can hardly believe her own eyes. How could a creature so diverse and fictional ever exist before her?

The wizard who appeared to her patted her hand and said "Sssh. Go back to sleep, young one. You need your strength." He turned to the hobbit who took his burning blue eyes away from Clae, much to her relief. "As for you, Frodo, we may leave her in peace to sleep till she is well enough again. She has taken much of the medicine. I believe that will do." The hobbit looked back at her with curious and pitiful eyes, before he left the room, the silver cup in hand.

As for Clae, she let the moment pass of seeing the first fair hobbit in her whole life.
Her eyes drooped, as she fell into another deep sleep she knew she will wake up from.

One morning came. Clae suddenly rose quick from bed, waking up from a terrifying nightmare about being locked up in a room without any windows, doors or any hole she could escape from. And in there she was stuck with small hairy monkeys that kept leaping on her head... However, the moment she opened her eyes, the only thing that terrified her are the blinds that were pulled over her window, making her room sink into darkness.

Leaping out of bed and ignoring the sudden cramp on her bandaged leg, she drew the shades back... only to gasp at the view she saw through the round window.

Green fields, with beautiful daisies shining their faces on the bright rays of the sun. A beautifully trimmed garden sat just outside its window, with a large tree on the far side, shading a bunch of small hobbit children playing around its trunk. Everything glittered, and everything looked fine as if it was spring. Clae moved to sit down breathlessly on her bed, when cramps began to spread on her leg made her topple backwards to land hard on her behind on the wooden floor.

"Oomph!" she gasped painfully, as she rubbed her back with a bandaged arm.

Now this small flimsy disaster caused a great commotion around Bag-End. The door to Clae's room suddenly burst open, as a curly brown haired hobbit suddenly bounded in and hoisted her up to stand on her own feet. "My, my, my," he said in a thick British accent that surprised the girl. "Its a lovely day for us to rest and be merry. Why must we hurry in waking up?" Clae looked at him as he tucked her back into her bed. He looked healthy for a hobbit, and a powerful personality with a great optimistic value. "Oh, bother me, I have forgotten to introduce myself to a young lass," he gasped as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, pleased to be at your service," the hobbit gave Clae's weakening hands a firm handshake that almost had her palm broken. "Well, you may call me Merry, and I'm here under my cousin's orders. But its a pleasure taking care of you... after all you saved my other cousin's life."

Clae smiled at him quietly, but she recognized that he was different from the hobbit she saw the last time. He had those bright brown eyes that seemed to dance just by looking at her in a curious manner, instead of the dark, blue lonely ones from the fair halfling she'd seen before. "I am Claeren..." she whispered. "Just call me Clae..." Merry grinned brightly and crossed his feet on the edge of her bed. "Its an unusual name for an elf... is it true that you came from the lands of the north?" he asked.

A puzzling look came from her face. "Forgive me, but I am not an elf." she whispered softly, as Merry's enthusiastic smile faded, replaced by a bigger curious look. "So... it is Pippin whom I have saved, is it not?" Clae blurted, to cut the curious silence between them. The hobbit gasped. "He is my cousin! How... how did you know?"

Clae was about to open her mouth, when another hobbit entered the room.

"Of course she would know, Merry," he said firmly, hands in his pockets. "She was sent by Gandalf for a reason." He stood by the doorway, surveying her. From Merry, Clae's vision turned to the other individual standing by the door. He had a small built, slightly smaller than a usual hobbit, and he looked immensely young despite the lines and expressions of maturity on his face... but there was only one detail that made her recognize him completely - the brilliant blue eyes shining with an unknown emotion that was slightly hidden behind dark curly locks that fell upon his forehead. He was no other but the master of Bag End.

"Ah, Frodo! We've been waiting for her to wake up," Merry said gaily, grinning brightly at the child who was growing curious. "Now here she is!" Clae clutched the hem of her blanket and looked blankly at Frodo with her own darkened blue eyes that couldn't even challenge his. "Hello," she mumbled with a small voice.

Frodo bowed, but still a with a stern look in his eye. "We are honored to have you as the guest of this house, dear Clae," he said, as the girl noticed smaller little hobbits peering through the door behind him. Must be the other Baggins and Brandybuck cousins of Frodo and Merry whom they invite in the house every afternoon. "But please," Frodo seemed to beg. "Take your rest. The wizard Gandalf advised us to keep you in bed for a few more days till you have fully recovered. He shall return in three days to fix matters with each and everyone of us."

Despite the honest and stern tone in Frodo's voice, this made Clae greatly impatient. She didn't know how long at all she was sleeping in a small, cramped hobbit bed that seemed for months. She didn't know how on earth she arrived in the Shire (but she greatly accused the flash of blue light that was just as silly as any fic she could write), or if she's ever coming back to the Enclosed Arboretum and to her own life. She wanted answers now.

"If you ever have any needs or compliments, send them to my cousin," Frodo directed his hand to the other hobbit who was sitting nearer to Clae. "Merry would gladly come to your service. And Pippin will be back to-morrow sunrise to have a word with you." Shooing the little hobbits out of the room who was looking at her with big goo-goo eyes, Frodo turned back at Clae with a soft look and finally said, "Good day." The door was slammed shut.

Hiding incoherent mumbles under her breath, Clae finally turned to Merry with a confused and disgruntled look. "When am I ever going to get home?" The hobbit could only shrug. "Gandalf is going to arrive in three days," he replied. "I guess the best we can do is wait." Merry handed tucked the girl into bed, propping more pillows behind her head so that she can see through the afternoon sunshine through the round window across her bed.

With a sigh and a watchful Merry beside her, she laid her head back down and watched the sunrise sink.
It was going to be a long story too hard to explain.

P.S. Aaah, this is getting better. :)