I DO NOT OWN LOTR OR STARWARS
Ch. 3: From the Shadows
Frodo woke the next morning in a very different setting than the one where he had awoken the previous morning. He lay, not in the plush down of his mattress, but on the hard ground of the forest with only his pack as a pillow. Sam laid next to him in much the same fashion…only Sam seemed much more content about it.
Frodo searched the trees around him as he packed up the few things he had brought. He and Sam had only been traveling for one day, but already they could see the challenge they were facing. Gandalf had instructed the Hobbits to stay away from the main road.
"I know Sauron has sent his Nine after you, but I don't know what other threats he may be sending your way. This stranger is still foreign to me. I haven't been able to map out his intentions. If you should run across him, be wary." the Wizard had stopped here, helping Frodo put on his pack. "I will go to Saruman. He is the head of our Order. If anyone knows what to do in this crisis, it will be him…"
Frodo shook Sam gently. The Hobbit smiled in a pleasant dream.
"Come on, Sam! We have to go!" Frodo laughed. Sam got up with minor complaints. Hurriedly, the two cooked a small breakfast before packing in their camp and making their way through the trees once again.
The path they took ran parallel to the Road, but not so close that they could easily be seen by anything walking along it. That probably aided in their being able to glimpse the sight of a lifetime.
As they drew close to a large grouping of trees, Frodo held up a hand in a motion of silence to the other hobbit.
"Do you hear that?" Frodo whispered.
"No," Sam frowned. What Sam didn't yet year was the sound of music. Beautiful, ethereal music. "I hear it now! What's it coming from?"
They didn't have to wonder long when around a bend in the road came the most breathtaking group of people either of them had ever seen. Frodo had met their kind before on occasion, but never had he seen them in their full royal garments. The music they made was mournful and haunting. They barely touched the ground as they walked, and the air around them glowed with an ethereal light. Elves, they were, making their final journey to the West and the Undying Lands.
"They're ELVES, Mister Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, jumping up. Frodo shushed him and dragged the hobbit back down beside him.
"Don't disturb them," Frodo's tone was somber. "They're leaving Middle Earth."
"Oh," Sam looked as though he would cry. "Do ya' think we'll get to meet some o'them before they all leave?"
"Of course, Sam," Frodo replied reassuringly, "We are going to Rivendell after all."
Sam nodded, and they began their journey through the underbrush once again. After about an hour more of travelling, the hobbits encountered an unexpected difficulty. The trail they had been using ended, and the only manageable path through the forest led directly down to the Road.
"Bullocks," Frodo muttered, "It looks as though something's trying to get us to the Road."
Reluctantly, the two of them stumbled down on to the dirt surface and began warily moving forward. They marched several miles with little event, though every sound possible caused them to jump with nervousness. Just then, though, Frodo's keen ears picked up a new sound entirely.
"Get off the road," Frodo whispered.
"What?" came Sam's reply through the mouthful of bread he'd just taken.
"Get off the road!" Frodo grabbed his friend, tossing him haphazardly into the bushes and under a slight overhanging of the rocks. Sam looked at him confusedly, but quickly understood his master's panic when he, too, heard the footfalls of a horse making its way toward them on the Road.
They listened as it came, praying it was only a merchant coming to sell his goods in the Shire, but to their horror, the horse drew up to their hiding place before stopping. The rider dismounted. Over the sounds of his frantic heartbeat, Frodo made out the sounds of…sniffing. It was as though the rider was trying to smell them out.
Suddenly, a strange urge overcame Frodo. The hobbit fought with his own body as his hand slid into his pocket and gripped the Ring. Knowing this was a trick of the Enemy, Frodo fought it with all his might.
Just then though, the urge left, and the rider straightened up, rushing back to its hors and darting off. The hobbits looked to each other, confused, but then they heard what had caused its flight.
In the steadily falling night, loud voices cut through the chilling air. They sang happily despite the horror that had been just in front of them on the road. Frodo inched his way to the Road where he could see the ones responsible for the joyous noise.
Without warning, to Sam's horror, Frodo rushed into the road, waving his arms and shouting in a strange language. Sam followed him immediately, standing behind him, and remaining quiet.
"Hail, Elf-friend!" one of the men in the group spoke in delighted surprise. Indeed these men were Elves. They were dressed in simple, yet elegant, travelling clothes, but the light in their eyes and the look of the moonlight on top of their fair heads was enough to give them away. "What is Master Frodo doing abroad so late?"
"How do you know my name?" Frodo asked in wonder. These were high Elves. They had spoken the name of Elbereth in their song.
"We know many things," the one who had addressed him answered. "And we have seen you many times walking with Master Bilbo."
"And what is your name, Lord?" Frodo bowed deeply.
"Always a polite tongue," the leader laughed, "I am Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod. Some of our people still dwell in Rivendell. Come, now, Frodo. Tell us what you are doing. There is a shadow of fear upon you."
"What can you tell us of the Black Riders?" Frodo asked after thinking for a moment.
"Why do you ask of black Riders?" a shadow crossed Gildor's fair face at this thought.
"We were just overtaken by one before your voices scared him away," Frodo motioned to the spot where they had been hiding.
"This explains much," Gildor mumbled before leaning in to consort with the other Elves. "It is against our custom, but we feel it would be best if you would come with us now. You will lodge with us this night."
"I thank you indeed," Frodo bowed again, the feeling of relief that rushed over him almost taking his breath. "This is beyond my hopes of fortune."
~#*ITS*#~
The journey to their lodgings was long indeed. When they arrived, Frodo and Sam settled down for the night, and were quickly asleep. They didn't sleep long, however, before the elves' clear voices brought them back to startled wakefulness.
As the elves sang joyously, lights came from everywhere brightening the circle in which was now a table filled with a feast the likes of which the hobbits had never seen. More elves were here now than when they had fallen asleep, some were serving food, some lounging in the grass, but all were singing.
As they ate, Frodo noticed, at the other end of the table, being served as one of them, was a man in black. His face was hidden by his black hood and a strange black mist.
"Gildor?" he asked with fear shaking his voice.
"He is not a rider," Gildor laughed, seeing the reason for the hobbit's distress.
"Who is he?" Frodo frowned, relaxing only slightly, "He's been showing up for months now, and even Gandalf doesn't know what he's doing."
"You needn't fear Shadow," Gildor reclined on a the stump of a tree, "Even we know little about him, and no one has seen his true face, but I assure you he is no threat."
Frodo frowned deeper, "If you don't know much about him, how can you say he's not a threat?"
"Because, Master Frodo," Gildor's tone was dark and reverant, "He has fought alongside us many times. He has…power…incredible power, the likes of which no one in Middle Earth has seen before. He has been watching over you for this beginning of your journey as well, though I'm sure you have not been aware of his presence."
"It didn't seem like he was there when the Black Rider was coming after us," Frodo grumbled.
"Who do you think told us to sing?" Gildor raised an eyebrow. "As you saw, we usually travel in silence, but just before we found you, he appeared, breathless and looking as though he'd been in battle. He urged us to sing one of our high songs as loud as we could. He then disappeared as quickly as he'd come, and we found you a short while later."
After hearing this news, Frodo was all the more confused about this mysterious person. He sat comfortably at the end of the table, surrounded by laughing elves, but he looked as though this place was the furthest from where he should have been.
After they had eaten and the night had drawn on, Sam curled himself at Frodo's feet and went off to sleep. Frodo, however, talked with Gildor for long hours under the starlit sky. They discussed the Black Riders, Bilbo, and the journey ahead. Then Frodo himself nodded off to sleep, and this time, he was comfortable in his place on the plush grass, but his mind was filled with images of the man in black and what his intentions could possibly be…
~#*ITS*#~
A/N: I know it's been a while on this one, but writer's block hit, and I was more focused on my other Fanfiction, Divine Symphony anyways, so I let it fall behind. So sorry! I think I've got my plan pretty well worked out now, though, so *Hopefully* this one won't get neglected again.
For some of you, there hasn't been enough StarWars in this fanfic, but I've been hinting as to what parts of it are related…one part in particular. If you haven't figured it out yet, I might need to put it up on a neon sign for you, but keep reading. It's only the beginning, and you don't need to know all my plans right now. That might sound snobby, but it's true. I'm the author, trust me, or move on to another fanfiction. It is entirely up to you.
For the rest of you, I hope you continue to enjoy this fanfic and keep commenting. I love to hear your feedback! =)