Sorry this took so long in getting written. But I recently bought the ROTK:EE, and it's inspired me to write some more on this. So, here's the next chapter!
Chapter 2
"Miss Dawn, you don't have to come with me. There's still time to turn around." Danny said as he and Dawn rode their ponies - Danny's shy, calm mare, Thyme, and Dawn's charger, Rohir, - up the roadway to Bag End. It was the ancient home of the Bagginses, which was handed down to Frodo the Wanderer's servant, Samwise Gamgee, The First and The Brave. Since the time of Samwise, it had been past down to the first born sons of the Gamgee-Gardners (later known as just the Gardners ). Out of many generations, Danny's Gamgee grandfather came to win it 100 years ago, then it was passed to Danny's mother -being an only child- and soon would be Danny's. But as it stood now, the old home was in disarray; it was dusty and uncared for, and the citizens of Hobbiton were divided as to whether the house should be torn down or preserved as a historic landmark and made a museum. But Danny had finally come to age back in August, and now after a month of waiting he'd summoned up the courage to go and clear it out. And Dawn volunteered to help him.
"Danny, I want to help," she said cheerfully, "Besides, I've always wanted to know what the great Frodo Baggins' house looked like." She was so excited that even Rohir could hear it, and his old warhorse blood was stirring at the excitement his lady was emanating.
"But you might get into one of your fits from all the dust," Danny protested, "And besides… it might have changed since then."
"Don't be ridiculous," Dawn said, "My sickness only comes in winter. And nothing ever changes in the Shire, Danny. It's a common fact." But this was a big enough change for Dawn's dreary life. She was going to see a piece of living history! But as her happiness seemed ready to bubble over, she and Danny both heard a rush of galloping behind them. They turned, and saw, who else, but Tarin and Egret coming up behind them.
Danny groaned. Dawn sighed. They always followed. And always got them all four into trouble.
"Good morning, Lady Dawn," Tarin said as he and Egret's ponies caught up with them. "Why, what a pleasant surprise!"
"Surprise?" Egret asked, "Tarin, we followed them."
Tarin laughed nervously, "Oh Eggy, you jest!" Tarin turned back to dawn and said with a big charming smile, "We were simply going out for a brisk morning ride, when we saw you and decided to join your company."
"That's not true," Egret said innocently, "Uncle Merrimac said she was gone and we went looking for her and Danny. You're memory is terrible." Then Egret looked at Dawn with hurt green eyes and said, "Why did you two leave without us? It wasn't very polite."
"We're doing something very important," Danny said, "I have to fix up Bag End! It's my inheritance, you know. And Dawn wanted to help me."
"You still should have asked us to come," Egret said, "We can help."
"How?" Dawn asked, "You might break some delicate urn from the Third Age. And Tarin, you hate doing housework. You'd be miserable in all that dust."
"I would face a whole storm of dust for you, Lady Dawn," Tarin said, sitting up taller in his saddle. Danny nearly retched.
"Whatever," Dawn sighed. "Just remember: don't get in our way, and if something is either old, made of glass, or looks important, don't touch it! Ya, Rohir! Ya!" she commanded the steed, and it raced ahead of the three tired ponies. Dawn loved her Rohir. He wasn't just another hobbit sized pony. He had been a gift from Merrimac; the foal of a horse from the lands of Rohan. Rohir would someday be a grand stallion, and with the rate at which Dawn kept growing, she would still be able to ride him.
She was the first to reach the top of The Hill, and slowly dismounted her steed. She looked up, and her mouth dropped open at the sight. She was here. She was actually here. She stood on the threshold of the ancient and legendary Bag End. She tied Rohir's reins to a fencepost, and went through the old gate, walking past the weed strewn path, and up to the faded green door. As she reached out her hand to touch the wooden door, feeling the rough grain of the wood under her fingertips, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity. Like she'd stood here before; had stood on this step many times. But she'd never seen Bag End before, except in old paintings in Brandybuck Hall. She felt like… like she'd finally come home.
The magic moment was gone as Danny, Egret, and Tarin came trooping up to the fence. For when they had dismounted, the first words out of Egret's mouth were, "What a dump."
"Watch it," Danny warned, "That's my mother's ancestral home."
"Well, we're here," Dawn said. She turned, and looked back at her companions, smiled, and said, "Now let's go in and get started."
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The night was quiet on the great island of Valinor. Most were in their homes, resting, as only five residents of the island were able to truly sleep. Nevertheless, no one was around when one of the many enormous mirrors in the grand central hall started to glow. Then, the glass began to ripple, like water in a pond when a rock's been thrown into it, and out from the rippling center emerged a dainty, pale hand. It was soon followed by another hand like it. The two fair hands grasped the frames of the mirror, and out stepped a being draped in darkness. She was taller, and her black hair ran down past her knees. She was cloaked in black velvet, while her dress was a deep, rich purple satin, it's hem swirling about her small, bare feet like smoke. One her brow rested a golden circlet, and her red lips slipped effortlessly into a sly smile. With her eyes closed she was a sight of beauty. But her eyelids opened, and showed the secret they were hiding. Her eyes were blacker than pitch, and no light could be reflected from them for their malice and anger swallowed all light.
Then, from the still rippling mirror, steppedanother tall being. One with red hair, and the elongated ears of the Eldar. His deep emerald eyes looked about the old hall he once had stood in, and he sighed. Before his strong, calloused hand could touch the single golden loop in his perfect ear, the dark maiden in front of him whispered, "You know what to do."
"Yes, My Lady," he said. He looked back through the mirror, stuck his hand in, and pulled it back out. Then, out from the mirror a small company of Orcs came filing out. The Dark Lady's smile grew wider still, and her teeth gleamed through her dark red lips.
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In the rooms where the four Hobbits of Valinor slept, four shadows crept. One stood erect as the other three slouched as all stole into the bedrooms. Then, from the house came muffled yelps, and one high, ear spitting scream.
It was enough.
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"Intruders!!!" cried several Elven guards. Elves panicked as swarms of archers grabbed up bows and raced about the island, looking for the monsters that had invaded. The commander, Legolas of Mirkwood, lead a troop to the empty Hobbit house. He and his archers searched, but there was no traced. The sheets were ripped, the pillows slashed, but otherwise, no sign of foul play.
From a walkway Gandalf the White raced towards the house. As Legolas emerged, Gandalf demanded, "What happened?"
"Orcs," Legolas said, "I know their foul stench. They have been here."
"Impossible," Gandalf said, though he knew Legolas spoke true.
"Lord Gandalf!" cried a voice. A young Elf, not yet 50 years old. Came running up to them. Hi head had a great long, horrible gash in it. He said, gasping for breath, "It's… Lady Galadriel… She… needs…needs your help.. In the meeting hall!"
"Follow me!" Gandlaf ordered Legolas and his troop. They all raced as fast as their legs could carry them, and when they pushed open the doors of the meeting hall, they beheld Lady Galadriel, her arms raised, creating a barrier with her ancient powers, as an Elf Maiden clad in purple and black shot green fire from her hands. Lord Elrond was there already, his sword clashing with that of the banished Elf prince, Culachquen. And being carried by the Orcs, knives to their throats, were the four Hobbits - The three Ring Bearers, and Carole, the Hobbit woman who'd been swept to their shores many, many years ago.
"Release them at once, Culachquen!" Gandalf ordered as Legolas and his archers took aim.
"If your rabble so much as ruffle a fletch," the Dark Lady said, still assaulting Galadriel, "And I will order my Orcs to slit their throats!"
"And who are you, Elf Witch?" Gimli the Dwarf asked as he, and four other grey haired dwarves, appeared in another doorway, their axes hefted and ready to slice through Orc necks.
"Who am I?" she responded. Then, with a great double blast of fire, she knocked down Galadriel, and sent her sliding across the marble floor into the far wall. Then, the Dark Elf gave a signal with her hands, and her Orcs and Culachquen swarmed about her. Then, she said, "I am Mordea, Lady of Shadows, and Queen of Mordor!" She thrust out her right arm, and flames erupted in circles about the elves, dwarves, and others who'd come to oppose Mordea. Then, she led her henchmen and her captain back to the mirror they'd come through, and they climbed in through the rippling surface. But, as the last Orc's foot went through the mirror, the glass reverted, and became smooth, and whole, once again.
Then, the fires died, and Gandalf raced to the mirror. He dared not touch it, so, in rage and grief, he used his staff to smash it into countless pieces. "Have every mirror in Valinor broken, and the pieces burned," the White Wizard ordered. Three elves ran to carry out the order. Meanwhile, Legolas and Gimli, and the others of their kind, bowed their heads in despair, as behind them two men and one woman came running in, too late to help their friends.
"Do not give up hope," Galadriel said as Elrond helped her to her feet.
"Who was she?" asked a young elf. Legolas turned to him, and said, "She was a woman of my generation. Born in the Third Age of Middle Earth. I know her."
"As do I," Gandalf said, "But I did not recognize her. What evil could have changed her so?"
"I know not," said Elrond, "But she will pay. She is a traitor!"
"It was she…" Galadriel said. All turned around, and she continued, "It was she I saw in my mirror…Before we sent Aurora-"
"Speak not her name!" Gandalf warned her. "If this is true, then it is time. We must go at once."
"Go?" Legolas asked. "What is going on?" Gimli barked.
"A time that may decide the fate of the world," Gandalf told them. "We must find the Granddaughter the Ring Bearer. We must gather the Children of Legends. We must return to Middle Earth."
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The Black clouds of Mordor blocked the rays of the sun as morning came in Middle Earth. The Orcs carried the kicking and struggling old Hobbits up the stairs of the restored, obsidian and glass tower, and opened the iron doors to the topmost inner chamber. They threw the old Halflings inside, and closed the doors with a loud clang.
"Now see here!" cried old Bilbo Baggins, "This is most rude and barbarian!"
"Hush, Bilbo," Frodo cried. He felt his old heart racing, his shoulder hurt a thousand times worse than it had ever hurt him before. He cried in pain.
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried, struggling to tear apart the ropes that bound his hands.
"Frodo!" cried Carole, Frodo's wife, as she crawled to her husband. "Be still, love, you'll make it worse!"
"Where the devil are we?" asked Bilbo. Suddenly, the dark chamber filled with laughter, and then a second later, it filled also with light. Mounted on every wall were mirrors. Mirrors upon mirrors. And from the shadows, she stepped out before them. Her black, heartless eyes stared down at them, filling their souls with dread in her terrible beauty.
"Welcome," she said slowly and deeply, "Heroes of Middle Earth."
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"How long have we been looking through boxes?" asked Egret as he, Danny, Dawn, and Tarin sat in what had once been a study and writing room in Bag End. One window let in the morning's light.
"All night," yawned Tarin. "And I am exhausted."
"Well after hours of floor scrubbing and dusting, I should think so," Dawn said as she pulled out over a hundred empty inkwells from one box.
"We'll soon need to get to furnishing this place, now that it's all clean," Danny said as he but a box aside, and reached for another box. "But right now we need to see what's in these boxes. Maybe we can salvage something."
"Hey, I found a sandwich!" Egret cried, pulling the moldy thing out of his box.
"Disgusting!" exclaimed Tarin.
Egret shrugged, took a bite, and said with his mouth full, "It's still pretty good."
"EWWWW!" cried Dawn, covering her mouth.
"What's this then?" Danny asked as he looked into the box he opened. He pulled out a small oval painting. It was a portrait of a very stern and proper looking Hobbit, with a mass of blond curls on his head. "I think I've found the old portraits!" Danny called in excitement. The others gathered around, and peered over his shoulder. Danny pulled out portrait upon portrait of the hobbits who's owned Bag End over the years; the names of whom were written on a small gold plaque on the frame. At last they came to some that they'd only heard of in books. One was a family portrait- different from the single portraits- that read: The Gamgees of Bag End. It featured eight golden haired children, ranging in ages one to 12 years old. And the two adults were both blond haired Hobbits. One a very lovely lady, and the other a stout, but very cheerful looking Gentlehobbit. The painter had obviously captured the joyful gleam in his eyes.
"This must the old Samwise himself!" Danny said, bursting with excitement and pride.
"Looks a bit like you, Danny," Tarin said, smiling.
"You've found some real history, there, Danny boy!" Egret said.
"There's a few more," Dawn said. Danny put the painting away, and pulled out another small, oval, single portrait. The Hobbit featured in the portrait was very handsome. He had a quiet reserve in his fair face, but as Dawn looked at it, she thought that his smile had a small sadness in it. She had not noticed, though, that her friends had gone quiet.
"Dawn…" Danny whispered.
"Yes? What is it?" she asked them. She looked at them all. Their faces were ashen.
"The painting," Tarin said.
"What about it?" she asked.
"He… he looks like you." Egret said, his voice shaking.
"What? He does not," Dawn said, "My skin is tanned, like a farmer's. His is so pale. And my fave is oval- his is square."
"But… his eyes…" Tarin said.
"What about them?" she asked, getting angry.
"Dawn," Danny said, pulling the painting out and taking it under the sunlight. "He has the same eyes as you."
Dawn laughed, but took another look at the painting in the sunlight. Her breath escaped her body as she looked into the eyes. She'd seen them before. These were her eyes! The same deep blue as her own! But then, as she looked at the face even longer, she felt a rock hit the bottom of her stomach as she realized…
"I know this Hobbit," she whispered, afraid. She backed away from the portrait, and from Danny, who held it. "I know him!"
Danny looked at her with worry and concern as he said, "But Dawn, the name says 'Frodo Baggins, Esq.'"