Umm… Yes. I so did not forget that I was ever writing this story.
Not a single person noticed when a small furry animal, bounded to the edge of the camp and sat, observing the scene. Before long, the animal was joined by at least a hundred others all with noses twitching, and feet thumping nervously. The rabbits had returned.
The sun shone cheerily upon the desperate fellowship. Caught up in a battle of almost epic proportions, nine men against six deadly fell beasts, they were fighting to stay alive. It was not until they felt ready to surrender, when help finally arrived, in the least expected of ways.
"Frodo!" Sam called, swinging his sword wildly. "Are you hurt?"
The other hobbit had fallen, with a heavy blow to the stomach. He lay on the dusty ground, gasping for breath. Managing to nod weakly, Frodo replied, "It's OK Sam, I'll be alright. Keep fighting!"
Sam reluctantly heeded Frodo's advice, and kept on, though it seemed he was fighting a losing battle. Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli were managing to keep three of the six beasts at bay, with a steady stream of arrows and sword wipes. Gandalf had a handle on another of their attackers, aided as always by magic. And the three hobbits still on their feet valiantly fought against the other two. Things were not looking good for the fellowship. But then, from the edge of the forest, they came. An army several hundred strong, a rainbow of whites, greys, browns and blacks, the rabbits joined the fight. And the fell beasts couldn't have asked for a worse fate.
The rodents advanced speedily and fearlessly, feet thumping the ground as they ran. And boy, did the fellowship notice.
Sam's warning rang clear. "Mister Frodo, the rabbits have returned!"
Frodo looked around in time to see several dozen white rabbits leap onto him, over him, and past him, continuing on to attack the winged beasts. Aragorn and Boromir dropped their swords and stepped aside, allowing the fluffy animals free passage. Merry and Sam followed suit, helping Frodo to his feet, and dragging him with them. Gandalf held a magical cloak over the battle, but he too stepped back. Legolas, out of arrows, joined the others in safety, before being swarmed. Pippin seemed to be slightly distracted by the rabbits and they too by him. He eventually rushed to the sidelines, followed by several of the adorable fluff-balls, who sat with him, watching their companions fight the fell beasts.
The other rabbits were putting up a mighty good defence, biting, scratching, and jumping all over the enemies. Soon much over-powered by the rabbits' fierce onslaught, the black dragons retreated, screeching, infuriated at their defeat. Heavy wing beats echoed in the sky shortly after, the Nazgul and their mounts heading back to Mount Doom.
The victors crowded in the centre of the campsite, noses twitching, ears pricked. Pippin was the first to join them. He bent down and scratched the leader behind the ear in thanks. Without a word, the others were quickly by his side. Frodo and Sam stood slightly offside, still nursing painful memories and body wounds from their last encounter with the creatures. The rabbits seemed to lap up the praise, but after a time, they grew bored, and eventually disappeared into the wilderness, leaving the fellowship in a content, relieved silence.
I hate to say that's where I'm leaving it for now, but I have. It's barely a chapter, but it'll do. Only one more chappie to go now! Wow don't we all look excited? cough
OK, review answering time.
B hotdogfish: /B Glad you like it, and it's great to have a new reader.
B moonlit-leaf: /B Thanks! I'll try.
B Eowyn Skywalker: /B Nice to know you're still reading. I truly don't think you ever had your sanity to begin with. But that makes two of us. Such is life.
B The Noble Platypus: /B SO sorry it took me so long to update again. Last chapter will be up within two days, I swear it!
B darklink231: /B Lol. That's awesome to know. :)
B NiennaElanor: /B It's out of character on purpose. I do have a crazy sense of humour. But I must ask, why is my writing style immature? I consider myself quite a mature person, just a little twisted. The word immature cuts quite deep for me, especially in relation to my writing, something I hold in high regard as one of my best talents. Or only talents. Plus, I'm only fourteen years old. What do you expect? For me to be able to write like Tolkien when in my early teens? Besides, without you properly explaining what you mean by "immature writing" I don't see any possible way for me to improve. So, care to elaborate? Sorry if I seem rude, but I would really like to know what you mean. :)