Author's
Notes:
Once upon a time, hobbits lived in
harmony with Men, farming the upper vales of the Anduin.
They lived so quietly, as a matter of fact, that none of the Great noticed them
at all. (The Great are more likely to notice troublemakers than folk doing what
they ought.) Times changed, a darkness crept over the land, shadowing the
hearts of Men, and some Little Folk made the dangerous crossing of the
Mountains to the West, while others were driven into the shelter of the forest,
where they passed quite a few years in pleasant obscurity once more. It is not
always a misfortune being overlooked...
Readers taking the time to review are muchly
appreciated. The Muse seems to run on virtual pina
coladas and reviews...
Bookworm, it was fun to research Gandalf's name and find nothing, giving me
free rein on my imagination…
Purist, there will be more Pick in later chapters, though this is not a "Pickthorn" story in particular. Must confess this story is
already completely written. That is how I can manage to post so quickly. I have
learned my lesson and now only post finished stories on ff.net, a chapter at a
time, as my editor tidies each one up. I came very close to scrapping a story
that was partially posted because it was unworkable, but happily for the
readers another author came along and pulled my chestnuts out of the fire (see "Runaway"
for details). Since I don't want to go through that again, I finish a story in
rough draft before I begin posting here. I've never abandoned a story in the
middle and hope I never will.
If ff.net is giving you fits and you are faithfully writing reviews, you can
always send them along to me at bljean@aol.com. The Muse will bless you.
Expect another chapter of "Small and Passing Thing" on the morrow, if all
goes well.
***
Chapter 11. Hobbit Help
The Elves shared of their provisions with the Fallohides
and a merry feast was had by all in the treetops. Thorn and Beech rigged a
hammock of sorts with the aid of the sons of Elrond, and they eased Glorfindel into it, tying him securely that he might not
tip himself out in the night.
'I haven't been swaddled since I was a
babe,' he grumbled, and Beech laughed.
'We'll feed thee, o mighty alf,' he said. 'Never fear. The People have never yet let a
guest starve.'
'My thanks,' Glorfindel
said wryly.
'Thou art most welcome,' the hobbit
replied. Quaint was the speech of these small folk, the Elves thought, but they
were amazed at how rapidly the hobbits' speech improved as they continued to
speak and hear the Common Tongue and soon found themselves
adopting the intimate form of address used by the hobbits. Before long an
observer would have thought that all were members of a widely diverse but warm
and loving family.
'I know that spiderwebs
will stop bleeding of wounds,' Elladan said to Thorn,
'but how did you know to find them so quickly?'
'The Lady told me,' Thorn said simply.
He could not explain further, and finally the son of Elrond turned the subject
to other matters.
'You are different from the Halflings
near my father's house on the other side of the Mountains,' he said. 'Do you
know them? Are they your relations?'
'If they are Halflings like us-uns, then they mowt likely be,'
Thorn said. He stuffed his pipe with sweetfern he'd
culled earlier as they walked, lit up and settled back for a good smoke. They
were safe for the nonce, though as he smoked he continued to pay close heed to
the surrounding wood.
'You breathe smoke?' Elladan
said, astounded. 'Be you related to dragons?'
Thorn laughed. 'I know not what dragons be,' he admitted, 'save a rumour of
great birds belching smoke and fire. But for us-uns,
the smoke must go in before it comes out. It helps the food to settle, you
know.'
'No,' Elladan
said in wonder. 'I didn't know.'
'Don't the Halflings in your land smoke
pipes?' Thorn asked.
'Not that I've ever seen,' Elladan replied.
'Then perhaps they aren't our relations,'
Thorn said.
'They have curly heads and furry feet,' Elladan replied, 'though they live in holes rather than
trees...'
'We live in holes when folk leave us in
peace,' Thorn said absently, and continued smoking and thinking. Beech noticed
when he stopped drawing on the pipe and allowed the burning leaf to go out. As
Thorn pocketed the pipe once more, he caught Beech's eye. The latter nodded and
gave the territorial call of a robin. Flocking Elves saw the armed hobbits
resting in their trees sit upright and pull out their bows.
Glorfindel moaned and thrashed nearby, and Beech
hopped nimbly to where the Elf lord hung, perching above him and reaching down
to touch his forehead. 'Fever,' he said shortly.
'I was afraid of that,' Elrohir said. 'Those foul creatures smear filth upon the pyles of their arrows, if not outright poison.' He forced a
draught from a silver flask down the Elf lord's throat, but it had no apparent
effect. Probing the wound with his fingers offered no relief, but caused Glorfindel to cry out and struggle within his bindings.
'Had it been poison he'd have died
quickly,' Elladan said, but he was frowning with
concern.
'What does your Lady say about fever?' Elrohir asked Beech curiously. He didn't like the looks of
the wound, the ominous red of infection spreading out from the edges.
Beech nodded towards Thorn. 'Ask him,' he said. 'He's the Thorn; the Lady
speaks to him.'
'Thorn?' Elladan asked. The Elves' medical treatment had not
prevented the infection, did not seem to be having any effect to alleviate it,
and Glorfindel was growing more restless.
The hobbit cocked his head as if listening. 'There is an herb,' he said slowly,
and pointed. 'It grows at some distance, in that
direction,' he added. 'I can show you,' he said. 'We'd have to build a fire
away from here so as not to draw the attention of any we don't care to find the
People, steep the leaves in heated water, and bring the brew back here.'
'Then let us go!' Elladan
said, taking up his bow and quiver.
'A moment,' Thorn said. 'Can you go
quietly enough to avoid drawing attention of the gobble-uns
or Men?'
The son of Elrond stared in astonishment, but the hobbit was quite serious. 'I
can walk softly enough,' Elladan answered at last, 'and
my cloak is of such stuff as disguises me from the casual eye.'
'And what of the keen
eye, the hungry eye, the seeking eye?' Thorn pressed. 'The Lady warns
that such are not far. Even should we travel some distance, we will barely have
time to heat water and kick dirt over the fire before they are upon us and the
hunt is up. It will be difficult to slip past them and return.'
Elladan eyed the hobbit with growing respect. 'We
will do our best,' he said. 'The Elf lord needs more than our medicines can
provide.'
'You cannot go alone!' Elrohir protested, but Elladan
shook his head.
'You must stay and watch over our
sister, and Glorfindel,' he answered. 'You are senior
in authority to anyone else, and must bring word of me back to our father
should I fall.'
'Thorn,' Beech said in a protest of his
own.
Thorn put a hand on his arm. 'The alf will die,' he said softly in their
own tongue. 'He is dying even now.
I must go, brother. The Lady has shown me what is needed and where to find it.'
'But— ' Beech said.
'If
the young alf and I do not return, Black will be
Thorn after me,' the head of the Fallohides said
firmly. 'He has already heard the Lady.'
'I
do not like it, brother, not at all,' Beech said in frustration. 'That She has spoken to him already...'
'Means
that my life is at an end, perhaps,' Thorn said patiently. 'And if there are no more sips in the cup for
me, who am I to complain? All I can do is make the
best use of the time I have, Beech, and while we speak the alf-lord's
time is running short.' Switching back to the Common Tongue he said, 'Are
you ready, alf?'
'Call me Elladan,'
that one said.
'Ell Adan,'
Thorn said, shouldering his own quiver and taking up his staff. 'A curious name. Does it mean anything in particular?'
'I'll tell you when we return,' the son
of Elrond said, tossing a rope coil from the branch and sliding down. Thorn
followed, and those remaining in the tree pulled the rope back up as soon as
the hobbit touched the ground.
The sky slowly darkened as those hiding in the trees waited. Elrohir had to gag Glorfindel to
quieten him, and the precaution proved necessary as dark growling forms passed
below more than once. Elves and hobbits waited together, scarcely breathing,
hands tightening on bows and relaxing again as the creatures passed.
Elladan followed Thorn through the wood, slipping
silently along. Though the son of Elrond was accomplished at moving swiftly and
silently through the woods, he found the hobbit chief had a genius for making
his way without noise, scarcely disturbing the foliage as they passed.. At
times Thorn would hold up a hand, crouching in cover, creeping forward by
inches; at other times he sped so quickly the son of Elrond had trouble moving
silently at the pace the hobbit set. After a wearisome time of hiding and
moving and hiding again, Thorn suddenly straightened and sniffed the air. 'We
are past the danger,' he whispered. 'We can go swiftly now.' True to his word,
he broke into a run, sure-footed in the dark. Elladan
wondered if he had eyes in his toes.
Finally the hobbit stopped again and listened. 'Running water,' he said. 'The
leaves will be found growing where a spring bubbles up and runs into the
stream. The water of the spring is safe to drink; the water of the stream is
not.'
'I've drunk from the forest stream
before,' Elladan replied.
'You won't any more,' Thorn said, 'not
if you're wise.' They found the spring by the sound and Thorn swiftly plucked
leaves, discarding some by their feel, putting those he found satisfactory into
a bag that hung from his waist. Out of another bag slung at his back he took
several water-skins and urged Elladan to fill his own
water bottle as he filled them.
'The fire now?'
Elladan said.
'No,' Thorn replied. 'There is a tree we
must find, some ways down the bank.' He began to walk and the son of Elrond
followed. 'Here,' the hobbit said at last. 'Climb.'
The two climbed the tree he indicated, then edged out
on a limb that projected over the stream. 'Don't fall in,' Thorn warned. 'The
enchantment will send you off to sleep and you'll drown, unable to swim to
safety.' Elladan nodded soberly, tightening his grip
on the branch.
Mid-stream the hobbit hissed at the son of Elrond to stay,
eased himself off the branch until he was hanging from his hands, inched his
way along the branch, and as it began to bend he reached out to take a branch
extending from a tree on the opposite shore. Once he had a firm grasp, he let
go of the first branch and made his way by careful hand-holds along the new
branch until he could swing his feet up to help support him. Once he reached
the bole of the tree, he climbed down and waited for Elladan
to follow.
Reaching the ground, he murmured his thanks to the Lady for the bridge she'd
provided. He and Elladan walked some ways down the
bank of the stream, well away from the "bridge". Finally Thorn scraped some dry
tinder from beneath a fallen log, found dry sticks and started a fire. He took
a small pot from his bag and filled it from one of the water-skins, then forced
the harvested leaves through the narrow opening into the skin until it was
full. When the water boiled he poured the contents of the pot into the skin
with a dexterity that astounded Elladan, but he
forgot his wonder as shouts and growls were heard from the other side of the
forest stream.
Thorn rose abruptly, kicking dirt over the fire, grabbing up water-skin and
pot, careful not to burn himself, and melted into the
underbrush. Elladan needed no urging to follow as
arrows began to rain down in the clearing around the smouldering fire. From
their hiding place they saw foul orcs emerge from
cover, shouting and gesticulating.
Several plunged into the stream, only to fall limp into the black water with
oily splashes. The fellows that went to pull them out suffered a similar fate,
until the remaining creatures stood baffled, watching
the hapless orcs quietly drowning as the stream
slowly carried them away. A few more arrows were launched at the smouldering
fire, and then the orcs turned and disappeared into
the underbrush with menacing growls.
Thorn waited a long time before creeping from his hiding place to shovel more
dirt over the last of the coals, pouring the contents of another water-skin
over for good measure. Then he and Elladan retraced
their steps to the Lady's bridge, crossed the stream, and cautiously made their
way back to the refuge of People and Elves, arriving shortly before the dawn.
