(A/N - I don't want to get too many hopes up; I haven't recently written anything new, and I know it's been ages since I've updated, but I found about seven or eight completed chapters of this I had stored online for safe keeping, and I just came across them and decided to post them maybe a week at a time in hopes of getting me to keep writing more of it. I admit for a while life has sucked me in (I am in college now! Exciting!), but I have all intentions of still writing in my free time (when I have it). I thank you all for your patience, and I appreciate so much. Hopefully things will pick up for this soon.)
A big thank you to my reviews for Chapter 16!
Ellie, jenny gryffindork., bdrake07, Desinere, Jack.Sparrow.1245, Padme4000, Toria sparrow, SaphirePhoenix
- Dis/Claimer -
. Chapter Seventeen .
.. The Elves ..
Angie looked up from her shoulder where the rock had hit her and up at the person on top of the hill. She feared for a brief second that it was the figure who had brought her down here in the first place, but the concern in its voice told her otherwise.
"Angie?" it whispered. "Are you down there?"
She smiled thankfully, never so happy to hear Frodo's voice. "Yes!" she said. "The thing... it pushed me down here and left me!"
"Is there a way out?" he asked. "Can you see anything?"
"The woods are too thick and cliff is too sheer," Angie said. "I don't see how I can get out."
"Is that tree beside you climbable?"
Angie suddenly noticed the tree on her right with many branches. It looked young, though; the branches might not be strong enough to hold her, especially at the top. She looked unsurely from the tree up to Frodo's silhouetted figure. He was already beginning to climb into the upper boughs himself cautiously. Angie bit her lip, wanting badly to advise against it until he came tumbling down through the tree, landing on the ground soundly. Angie ran over to him horrified.
"Frodo! Are you all right?"
He sat up, moaning in pain and holding his left side. "I'm fine," he winced. "Just... landed on a rock. Ow..."
"Landing on a rock is not fine," Angie said. "Just sit there and rest while I try to find a way out."
"Why don't we just wait?" Frodo said, wheezing a bit painfully now as he leaned back into the cliff for support. "It's too dark to make out anything let alone the road home."
Angie had to admit that he was right and sat down beside him feeling quite defeated. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin there as the nighttime atmosphere made her feel vulnerable even after she had run around late at night in Shire loads of times with Merry and Pippin. She thought about what those things might do if they found them and attacked again, but-
"Wait a second," Angie said suddenly, putting her hand on Frodo's arm.
"What is it?" he said, noticing how alert she had become. He looked and listened, but then he came to realize that she was thinking. Then, a smile came across her face. But, almost as soon as it had appeared, it was replaced with an angry twisted face. Angie made a fist and hit the ground.
"It was them!" she said in a whisper of frustration to Frodo.
"Who?" he asked in confusion.
"Merry and Pippin!" she said. "They did this to us! The attackers had to be hobbits because they were just as big as us, and they're probably doing this to get back at me for last night. I knew it!"
"Are you certain?" Frodo asked.
"Frodo, who else could it possibly be?"
Frodo thought this over. She had a point. The sizes, the motive, and trick could only be Merry and Pippin. He sighed. Nothing was ever going to stop their persistant tricks and schemes. At least he had Angie who knew a little about the way their minds worked enough to help counter their little pranks. He was grateful for that.
"I guess you're right," he said eventually. "What do you suggest we do now?"
"Well, in the morning we need to find our way back to the Hall," Angie said. "After that, we lay low until a very clever and... interesting... opprotunity presents itself."
Frodo nodded. "All right. Do you think it's safe to fall asleep here?"
"I hope so because I'm beat," Angie said with a long yawn. She shut her eyes and leaned back into the rock with some discomfort, but she eventually found a spot she could withstand for the time being. From beside her, Frodo lifted an eyebrow.
"You don't look at all satisfied with that rock," he said.
"Well it's no bed," she said, her eyes remaining closed, "but it will have to do. Goodnight, Frodo."
He smiled at her having a feeling that she was just being stubborn. He moved closer and gently wrapped an arm around her until she was close enough that her head was resting comfortablly on his shoulder. Angie opened her eyes in surprise even though Merry and Pippin had fallen asleep like this with her loads of times.
She felt him lower his head atop hers, and she felt the steady but relaxed rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She had never been this close to Frodo before. She had never felt him actually breathe. It was a moment of brief amazement, but also of thanks - Frodo had saved her form having to toss and turn in her sleep all night.
She moved closer to properly get comfortable and let out a content sigh as Frodo released a small one as well. A gentle breeze then rolled over them, and together they inhaled the fresh wind. But as the seconds passed, the wind began to pick a little more, and Angie and Frodo opened their eyes suspiciously.
Angie sat up, and they looked up at the sky as clouds began to cover the moon and something small hit her cheek. She looked over at Frodo who wipedthe tiny wet splashoff of her facewith his thumb in surprise and returned his gaze towards the clouds with her. They came faster and larger as the wind still picked up more, and suddenly, widely spaced and large raindrops instantly became a sheet of rain. Angie calmly looked over at Frodo as they sat in the middle of the downpour. He finally stopped looking up at the rain and over at her as well.
"Now what do we do?" she asked loudly over the rain.
"There's not much we can do, is there?" he asked.
"No," she agreed before thunder and lightning accompanied the rainstorm. The two hobbits looked up frightfully.
"Maybe we should sit under the tree," Frodo hollered.
Angie decided not to waste her time yelling over the storm and just nodded andcrawled over to the tree trunk with Frodo where it was not equally as wet but still uncomfortable. He scooted closer to her and returned his arm to its place behind her back as they watched the storm continue to intensify. Angie shuddered a few times as the lightning flashed brightly around them. Frodo rested his head on top of hers again.
"They are going to wish they never brought me here," Angie suddenly muttered miserably.
Frodo smiled out to the storm. "I think they already have."
"Well they'll wish it a hundred more times after I get through with them," she said grumpily. "Toss me down in ditch and leave for the night... I'll show them. There's far worse than this!"
x x x
For it was very true.
Things may have been uncomfortable for Angie and Frodo stuck under a tree in the storm, but things were becoming increasingly unbearable for Merry and Pippin.
As they came out of the thorn thicket leaving Angie to a night all by her lonesome, strong gusts of wind and large raindrops greeted them. Pippin held onto a nearby tree as he waited for Merry to come out, but he was almost blown back inside. Pippin grabbed his shirt and pulled him to the tree.
"We're not going to make it back in this storm, Merry!" Pippin shouted.
"Come on!" he replied anyways. "We have to try! It wouldn't be no fun if we leave her out here and we get stuck in our own hole!"
Together they battled the wind and spaced droplets to the clearing with the pond. The rain bounced off of the water's surface noisily as they looked around for the way back. Merry cursed himself for not remembering.
"Merry! Maybe we should-"
"No! It's this way!" he interjected, taking the first path he saw. Pippin followed reluctantly down an unfamiliar dirt path behind his best friend as the large raindrops kept hittig off of his head and gettinf tangled in his curly mess of hair. Soon, they came to a fork that neither of them recalled seeing, and Merry turned, looking back down the road they had just travelled.
"Oh that's brilliant!" Pippin suddenly shouted. "Now we're lost, too."
"We're not lost," Merry said. "I just can't find the road. There's a difference. Plus it's dark. and the clouds taking away our moonlight doesn't help much either." He moved passed Pippin, going back in the direction they had come from.
"Merry, face it!" Pippin yelled. "We're lost!"
Merry's face fell as he looked slowly back at Pippin. "You don't suppose that... Angie got so mad... maybe this is her revenge somehow?" he asked somewhat fearfully. To Pippin, it didn't sound too far off.
"Somehow, I think so, maybe," he said, walking up to Merry. "If it is, I think we deserve it, though."
Merry nodded in agreement aprehensively. "Yeah. Maybe we took it a little too far this time..."
"Well, at least things can't get any worse than this," Pippin muttered.
And of course, at that moment, the rain turned into a downpour, and Merry looked over at Pippin sourly, now soaked clear through to his skin.
"You were saying?"
Pippin looked up at the sky angrily.
"It obviously wasn't enough of an apology to redeem ourselves," he finally declared. Merry looked over at him feeling very miffed.
"Obviously," he muttered.
.. x x x ..
"Look, Mr. Frodo! It's Mr. Bilbo's trolls!"
Worry overtook Sam's smile immediately again as Frodo lay at his feet emitting stranger and stranger shrieks and groans. Pippin was supplying light from his newly accquired torch over Sam with an equally woeful look at Frodo. Merry was standing nearby trying to calm Angie's anguish as she silently allowed tears to spring from her eyes every so often. He held her close to him to soothe her, but neither of them could tear their eyes away from their wailing friend. Angie became more rigid and frightened as Frodo's screams intensified.
"He's going cold!" Sam was now yelling to the Ranger who was waving his torch near the ground in search of something.
"Is he going to die?" Pippin then asked.
Angie's heart caught in her throat. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want it said. It was almost like a given that he was probably not going to make it, but hearing the words... They were like thunder. So loud and hard to ignore even when spoken so softly. Her head fell, and she took a deep breath, emitting more tears without a sound. Merry noticed and held her closer however, squeezing her hand for comfort.
Sam was right. They were never going to make it to Rivendell in time. Only an hour had passed since he was stabbed, and already, the life in his eyes was disappearing.
"He's passing into the Shadow world," Strider's voice said, bringing Angie back to the horrible reality she faced. "He will soon become a wraith like them."
Angie looked up. Frodo become one of those awful creatures? It was a fate no one deserved!
Then, a Nazgûl cry sounded not too far from where they were. The hobbits looked around uneasily until Frodo emitted a similar sound. Their eyes fell on him with fear. He was calling out to them.
Merry looked around in alarm. "They're close," he said, the words floating around Angie's head as she stood with him.
Her eyes went back to Frodo as Strider ran over to Sam and they discussed a weed that could help slow the effects of the poison. She watched him lay there sadly as he jolted with every scream of torment. His usually deep bright eyes were now shiny, shallow,and glass-like. They weren't their normal charming blue; they were the cold color of frost instead of warm and happy. She wished she could see him happy again. Back in the Shire, not a care to pass except what to eat for supper. The memories stung as she looked at him now.
"Do you think we should prop him up?" Pippin asked, motioning to a rock in the hillside.
"Let him lie," Merry said. "We don't want any chances to be taken."
Sam came back after a few moments looking in the underbrush around his friends urgently for the Athelas. Merry and Pippin looked around curiously at what he was doing, but Angie was still lost in a better place with her bittersweet thoughts as she stared passed the limits of Frodo's body. Suddenly, like a limp doll, she slipped out of Merry's grasp and fell to her knees on the ground, looking lifeless herself. She reminisced Frodo's laughter as Merry kneeled beside her quickly. His voice was faint, and Frodo's distant laughter grew fainter.
Merry watched her, afraid. "Angie?" She kept staring into another world. "Angie, say something," Merry demanded softly. He grabbed her hand and shook it when she did not move again. "Angie?"
She blinked. Merry was somewhat relieved, but now she was leaning forward, her mouth opening.
"What?" Merry asked.
He looked. Frodo's head was turning, and a beautiful maiden fell to his side, calling out his name like an angel. Something caught in Merry's throat. She seemed to glow with perfection. She had to be an angel. Was she there to take Frodo from them? There to spare him? Her radiance was distracting him.
"Who is she?" he asked in awe.
"She's an elf," Sam said with equal amazement.
Angie stared at the lovely maid, curious as to how far they really were from Rivendell to have an elf stumble upon them in the Wild. Strider's body clad in black pushed itself out of the background. The elf was examining him as the Ranger placed some chewed Kingsfoil on Frodo's wound. He gave a startling gasp.
"He's not going to last," the she-elf said. "We must get him to my father." The rest faded out again to Angie. Her father? Who was her father? How could he possibly save her dear friend? Merry had shouted something, but he was ignored as the elf and Strider put Frodo on her horse and spoke quietly in elvish. She recognized a word or two. Frodo had taught her a few phrases long ago.
Suddenly, as the elf mounted the horse, Angie stood, eyes alight with fear. She didn't have a good feeling of Frodo being on the horse. Wraiths were in the vicinity in search of the Ring, and Frodo was weak. He didn't stand a chance. Merry grasped her elbow for the fear of her darting forward to interfere.
"Let go," she said to him.
"No, she's taking him safety."
"How do you know?"
"I don't know," Merry replied quietly, still watching the elf maiden.
Angie was about to struggle for the release of her arm when the horse suddenly took off.
"No!"
All of them looked to Strider in disbelief.
"What are you doing?!" Sam shouted at him. "Those wraiths are still out there!"
"He's defenseless!" Angie cried. "They'll kill him!"
Strider looked after the path of the elf after she had gone. He turned back to the hobbits that remained with him and spoke calmly. "Frodo is in good hands," he assured them, picking up his things as they followed him along a path. "He will reach Rivendell sooner than we, and hopefully it will not be too late."
"How do you know she can help him?" Angie asked, trying to keep up. Tears still streaked her face, but she wanted answers. "Why do you place the life of Frodo in her hands?"
"She has elven hands," Strider said, tearing through more vegetation as they walked. "And it is in those hands I would place my own life."
"That does not guantee Frodo's safety from the Riders!" Sam said.
"Arwen will deliver him to Lord Elrond in Rivendell for him to be healed," the Ranger said. "Asfaloth is a fast and agile horse. He will reach Rivendell sooner than you may think." A troubled silence followed. "Hurry," he now said to them. "We cannot linger."
x x x
A long week in the Wild passed in silence. The four hobbits thought of nothing but what had become of Frodo at first, but the monotonous walking soon led their minds to wander. Sam was eager to get to Rivendell not only for Frodo, but he wanted to see more Elves. That beautiful Elf that had come and taken Frodo made him even more curious. He had waited his whole life to see them, and just seeing one was amazing. He wanted more. Pippin was walking with Angie who was still very quiet and uneasy. He was often the one to try and talk to her. Merry was just feeling dumb however; the chilly air had him wishing he had brought his scarf as Pippin's stayed close around his neck. He shivered.
Early that morning, the company was travelling on a high ledge. They were about to turn a corner when Strider stopped them. He faced them with a smile. The hobbits looked on, bewildered.
"You have made it," the Ranger said, stepping aside now. The hobbits went around the corner slowly and carefully, eyes coming alive with delight and relief. Angie had never seen a place more enchanting. She felt something warm flow through her until a smile of awe came to her face. She knew exactly where they were.
"Rivendell," she said breathlessly.
"Words don't do it justice," Sam said from beside her softly.
Strider spoke after a moment of admiring it himself. "It is here we will rest, have unsurpassed hospitality, and be reunited with Frodo." He smiled down at the four halflings as their faces filled with a mixture of emotions. "Let us go," he said.
They were welcomed with outstanding accomodation as promised. The hobbits learned through observation that Strider must be a dear friend to them, and they were immediately welcomed into the Last Homely House by a tall, grand Elf. His wise face pulled into a smile, and he greeted them.
"Welcome, dear friends," he said. "My name is Lord Elrond of Rivendell, and I wish your stay here to be the best."
A respectful silence came briefly before Merry spoke up. "Lord Elrond," he said with a small bow, "we would like to see our friend Frodo son of Drogo. He has come here?"
"Indeed he has," Elrond said, anticipating the question. "Arthonnen and Almárean will take you to him." Two tall dark-haired Elves stepped forward with their hands folded neatly in front of them. Elrond spoke something in Elvish to them, and they began to lead the hobbits into the House.
Sam was amazed. The Elves didn't seem to walk; they seemed to glide along the smooth floors of the halls. He admired the beautiful architecture of every little banister, archway, and coloumn they passed, each etched with many defined details. Marble and alabastor were shining in the mid-morning sun as they approached a door and stopped.
The two Elves parted, each taking a door handle and opening a large door for them. Their eyes looked into the softly illuminated room. A large oversized bed was in the center, and a balcony ran the length of the left side of the room. Angie stepped forward with her friends, eyes on the bed. Their walked quickened pace until two were on each side, leaning over it anxiously in hopes to see their friend.
Then, a mess of dark hair and fair face appeared amongst the cream blankets, and Angie sighed, hopping up onto the edge of the great bed. She looked at him in concern. His arms were motionless at his sides draped in a handsome white ornate shirt, and part of a large off-white bandage was visible around his shoulder under the blankets and shirt. Angie looked at it with disdain.
"I don't think he's woken up yet," she said quietly to the others.
"And he won't, for some time."
Angie, Sam, Merry, and Pippin looked up at the voice. Gandalf was standing at the foot of the bed putting a pipe up to his mouth.
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