Sorry for the long wait guys. Here's the next chappie!
Chapter 4
"Preposterous!" Merrimac declared. In a small study within the great Hall, Merrimac's wife and Dawn on a couch across from the old Man who had intruded upon them. Eliza clung to her foundling daughter as if Morgoth himself were in the room, demanding to have the girl, instead of a man whose robes were whiter than the beard on his chin. Merrimac continued, however, "Inconceivable, improbable, and most impossible! I demand credentials! I'll not hand my only child off to some Tomnoddy who waltzes in my Hall, and claims to be Gandalf the Grey!"
The old man chuckled, and said, "Are your ears as blocked as your ancestor's? I have not been Gandalf the Grey for centuries. I am Gandalf the White."
"I don't care if you're Gandalf the Magenta!" cried Eliza, her arms holding Dawn's arm tight, "You'll not take my girl! I found her, and we raised her, and that's all there is to it!"
"I beg your pardon, madam, but that is my point," Gandalf said, standing - or at east trying to, since the full height of the hall ceiling was just under 5 feet high- "Though you may love her and care for her as if she came from your own womb, she is not your child. I know her true lineage, and it demands that she come with me and my company to Imladris."
"Im-what-dris?" asked Eliza.
"Rivendale," said a rather tall, though also stooped because of the ceiling, young man dressed in midnight blue robes. "The Elven haven."
"That pace has been empty for who knows how long," Merrimac said, "Supposing it still exists anyway. And it does not matter! She's not-!"
"I will go." Dawn said bluntly. Everyone stopped and stared at her. Merrimac's mouth had dropped so far it might have touched the floor, and Eliza's fingers were leaving imprints on Dawn's forearm as the middle aged Hobbit shook her head and started to cry.
As Dawn gently pried her adopted mother's hands off her arm, Merrimac stuttered, "N-no! No! You'll not be leaving with some rag tag bunch of lunatics and con artists! I forbid it!"
"Merrimac," Dawn said gently, walking over to him, and taking an already wrinkled hand in her larger young hand, "Father. I have been an outsider in this place all of my life. I have few friends, and my heart has always wondered…" she stopped to swallow her anxiety, and put her feelings into words, "I have always wondered where I truly come from. If these men can give me those answers, I will follow them. And besides… I see no lies or deceit in their eyes, even if their claims of identity are… questionable."
The man who called himself Gandalf grinned, and his eyes let a twinkle escape. "Wisdom beyond your years… You are truly of his kin." Gandalf turned, and said to his companion, "Merdian, we must go. Dawn," he said, turning to the Hobbit girl, "Pack light and swiftly. I fear that our time is slipping away far too quickly for us."
"Yes sir," Dawn said, and she ran back through many doors to her rooms to gather what time gave her permission to take. In her room she opened up her closet, and looked on the many clothes offered. Before she even looked at all the clothes she came to one conclusion.
"Nothing here is practical," she said, "These dresses will get stuck in brambles and rip, and then what will I have? I need something better…" she rushed out of her rooms and went down the hall. There she rushed past Tarin and Egret, who had been worrying themselves sick since her shock earlier in Hobbiton.
"Dawn?" Egret asked as she pushed by him.
"My Lady?" Tarin said, leaping up from his seat. Dawn paid neither any mind as she went into Egret's room, opened his closet and drawers, and started tossing clothes about.
"Cousin?" Egret asked, surprised, as he stood in the doorway. "What are you doing?"
"I need trousers!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Yes! Here they are," she said, shaking out two pairs of Egret's trousers.
"Lady Dawn! This is most unbecoming!" Tarin said, shocked. "Why on earth are you taking Egret's clothes?"
"Because he's the only one near my height," she said, running past them to her room. She shut the door in their faces, leaving the two even more bewildered than before.
Luckily Danny came up to them, and after interrogating him, they discovered the reason why Dawn was running willy nilly over Brandybuck Hall.
"That still doesn't explain why she's taken my pants," Egret said.
"You ninny hammers!" Dawn exclaimed as her door flew open. All three boys looked at her with dropped jaws. She had tucked a thick blouse into a pair of pants, and the suspenders were still too loose on her frame - for though she was broader than most hobbit lasses, she was still quite thin. She went past them, struggling to put on a cloak and carry a pack on her back all at once as she made her way to the kitchens.
"I can't go traipsing over the Shire and through bogs in my best Sunday skirt and bodice, now can I?" she asked them as she took loaves and apples and various other small food stuffs and rammed them into her pack.
"But Coz-," Egret started.
"Dearest Lady-!" Train began.
"Dawn, it's dangerous!" Danny said.
"I was going to say unrespectable," Tarin interrupted, "But yes, this undertaking with this 'wizard' is too dangerous for a rare and delicate beauty as yourself to do. Tell him to… to… Bugger off and leave our Shire!"
"You watch your tongue!" Danny said, jabbing his index finger into Tarin's chest. "Now I don't believe this old man to be Gandlaf or nobody neither, but I still wouldn't say anything like that to 'im. Dawn," he said, going to her side as she jammed in three wooden bowls. He grabbed one of her hands, and she stopped long enough to look in her friend's eyes. "Dawn," he continued, "Let me go with you."
"What?" she asked. "Danny, you said it yourself- this is dangerous. I don't mind going, but I'd never forgive myself if my best friend was hurt or even died because of me."
"And I'd never forgive myself if I let you go without anyone to help you. A self proclaimed wizard is fine, but what about someone who can really help you?" Danny asked. "My things are still packed form this morning. I can grab 'em in two shakes." he let go of her hands and rushed off.
"Danny!" she called, but he was already half way to his own rooms.
"I too must go," Tarin said. He bowed and ran off as well.
"Um, me three!" Egret said, giggling and running back the way they had all come.
"I'm surrounded by madmen," Dawn said, shaking her head. She grabbed her now full pack and hurried back to the parlor she had left her parents and Gandalf in.
When entered, she adjusted the pack, and looked up at Gandalf, then said with dignity and solemnity, "I'm ready."
Gandalf looked at her a few moments, then slowly he began to laugh. It grew from deep in his chest, so deep in sounded like a distant rumbling. Then it became raspier, yet louder, as his old eyes twinkled and he clapped a large hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Indeed? Ah yes… Thank you dear child." said the wizard, "You have brought back to this mind a memory that seems even farther away than when it happened. You may not believe me in all I have said, but my dear, your spirit is his exact copy."
"Whose?" she asked, mesmerized by his talk. "Do you mean Fro-"
"I'm ready Miss Dawn," Danny announced, a pack and cloak on him as well. His pack clanged as he took his place on her right, for he had packed quite a few pieces of crockery.
"What on earth?" Merrimac said, as Tarin and Egret rushed in too.
"Tarin Elonwinn Fairbairn, at your service," Tarin said, bowing low to Gandalf, the silent man behind him, and of course to Dawn.
"Don't forget me," Egret said, "Egret Took- always up for an adventure."
This sight made Dawn speechless. Even more so as Gandlaf let our a roaring laugh.
"Bless my old soul!" Gandlaf bellowed in laughter. "The girl is more like him than I thought! She takes not one, but two, from the Gamgee line, and yet another Took! A Took! Heaven help us!" he exclaimed.
"We won't let Dawn leave unless we go too," Danny said defensively.
"I know, I know. You needn't make a speech, dear boy," Gandalf said, taking deep breaths as his fit of laughter died down. "Your family has ever been loyal to hers, either by design or sheer accident. In this case, the latter." he looked down on them all, and took one more chuckle. "Indeed… It would be no trouble for you all to come. But hurry, for time is short, and shorter yet by this bit of comedy," and with that he ushered them all out, Merrimack and Eliza following close behind.
As the older couple stepped into the night, neither could help but cry as they saw four children they had known, and loved, since infancy take their ponies- and one young war horse- from their stalls, mount, and ride off, following Gandalf, the one named Merdian, and a third who seemed to slip in out of the trees by magic. Then, whatever magic had brought the mysterious three to their doors, it also seemed to whisk all away as the night swallowed them from sight.
Transition
The doors flew open into Mordea's mirror covered throne room. One of her many Orc minions stomped in, and said, "We brought you ano'er of the prisoners, Mistress."
"And what of the sentries I sent?" Mordea said.
"It'll take a while for 'um to get to the Shire, Mistress," replied the Orc.
"I don't care!" Mordea shouted. "I want them there faster! I want that girl dead!"
"Maybe torturin' this rat'll please yer?" it answered. Then he reached behind him and tossed in a rotund hobbit. She recalled that this one was called Samwise. It would be easy for her to reduce this disgusting thing into a mass of quivering hair.
The Orc left and slammed the doors closed, leaving Mordea alone with her new victim. As he huffed and got up, groaning with the creaking of his ancient bones, the dark elf rose form her seat and approached.
"Well, well, well," she said, circling him. "This is Samwise the Brave? More like Samwise the Fat. The Bungler."
"You better not sass me or I'll rip them ears off your 'ead," Sam threatened.
"Oh now, Sam," Mordea mocked, "I thought you liked elves…" she looked at her nails, as if checking for a crack or chip, then she turned and moved quickly behind him. To Sam's poor old eyes it was if she'd disappeared and reappeared behind him. Mordea then grabbed Sam's neck from behind and held him up, his feet kicking and his arthritic hands grabbing and scratching at her perfect one. And without thought or wince, Mordea reached her other hand into Sam's back, and searched out his heart. She knew he too carried a stain of the Ring's power, and she intended to get it out of him. She closed her black eyes and felt for the evil, the jealousy and hate and greed that the Ring's power emanated…
"Ah-ha!" she cried, and griped her prize, ripping it out of him as she tore her hand from his flesh. All the while Sam had grunted and refused to cry out in pain, for he would not give the witch the satisfaction. When it was all over, and Mordea had dropped him to the floor, Samwise was panting and sweating so hard his shirt started to stain.
"What is the meaning of this!" Mordea cried. She had opened her hand and what she held in her palm was no bigger than a marble. "THIS is the effect of the Ring on your heart? Isildur had it shorter than you and his corruption was greater!" she kicked Sam in the side, then yelled, "Guard!"
The doors opened again, and two Orcs answered her summons. "Take him away!" Mordea ordered. "Bring me the leader, Frodo Baggins!"