Chapter Four: Of Invented Weapons and Baths
"When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning,
And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning,
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn,
Look and see her how she sparkles, it's the last unicorn."
- America, The Last Unicorn.
Oh, good God... Thought Elizabeth. She had never seen someone so little, eat so much food in one go. All the hobbits were eating feverishly, stuffing whole hunks of bread in their mouths, washing it down with huge swigs of water. By this time, she was extremely uninterested in watching small people eating and drinking, so she emptied the contents of her bag onto the table and looked for something else to do. The contents of her bag included a wallet, apple Chapstick, drivers license, the abominable phone, Tic Tacs, iPod, pepper spray and an elastic band.
She pinged the elastic band at Strider. It bounced off him harmlessly, but he glared at her anyway while she was trying to contain her giggles. She ate the Tic Tacs next, then applied the Chapstick. I really need to plan ahead. At last, the four finished their meal, rubbing full stomachs happily and drinking ale. She watched jealously as they raised the alcohol to parched lips. "It's not the day any more, does that mean you'll let me have a proper drink?"
"No."
She hated not being able to buy things for herself. Independence was her virtue. The hobbit she presumed was Merry had returned from the bar, carrying a big mug of ale. "What's that?" She heard one, probably Pippin, say faintly.
"This, my friend, is a pint." She smiled. At last, something mildly exiting. She packed everything away, keeping a tab on Strider, who was still sitting where he was an hour ago; feet by the fire, eyes scrutinizing ahead (Though you could hardly tell, most of his face was in shadow, which she thought was a better look for him).
"They come in pints?" Squeaked Pippin. I'm getting one. He scrambled out of his chair, determined to match the boldness of his friend. She sighed. Why was everyone drinking except her? Still, she was grateful for all that Strider had done for her. God knows where she'd be if he hadn't found her.
"Excuse me," She heard Frodo say, "The man in the corner and the woman he's with, who are they?"
"The man's known as Strider. We call the him Longshanks, he's one of them rangers. No one's ever seen the woman before. Some are saying he picked her up at that camp, but I think she's from the south, strange folk down there." He drifted away, leaving Frodo very curious and a little light-headed. She knew eavesdropping was bad, but Sam did it and he got to go on the quest. Moral of the story? Eavesdropping can lead to good things, so she listened on. Frodo had gained an odd expression, fiddling with the chain ensnaring his neck.
"Baggins? I know a Baggins!" I remember this bit. I get to see Strider go all psycho on him! Frodo snapped out of his trance and saw Pippin talking to a group of men, he indicated where this particular Baggins sat, ogling at his friends idiocy. "He's over there! Frodo Baggins, he's my second cousin, once removed from his mother's side."
Frodo sprang from his chair, "Pippin! Stop!" He darted over, knocking some of the frothy liquid out of his cousins tankard.
"Steady on, Frodo!" He slipped on the spilled beer, crashing to the ground. The Ring went flying into the air. It was all very still for a moment. This was a part that Elizabeth never understood; how could the ring simply fall onto someone's finger? But here she was, watching it happen. The gold band did take a tumble onto the young hobbit's finger. In doing so, he completely vanished. Many people shouted in confusion, others believed it to be a party trick. He reappeared under a table, breathing hard, chest heaving up and down. He had the look of one whom had just epically battled with a bear and won.
Strider swiftly rose from his spot by the hearth, face still veiled by the hood pulled well over his head. He seized the hobbit by the collar, "You draw too much attention to yourself," Mr. Underhill. He snarled, dragging Frodo down the corridor.
"'Don't be conspicuous'", he says. "What is that, if not conspicuous?" She muttered. She pushed through the throngs of men gathered where the scene had taken place and into the hallway, listening intently for voices. Unfortunately, many people had rented rooms for the night.
"...I've told you before, it's a fine line between cuddling and holding them down so they can't get away..."
"...Hope that's not infected..."
"...No, darling. That necklace is mine..."
Finally, she tuned in on, what she prayed, the right spectacle. "...Are you afraid?"
"Yes."
Okay, enough is enough. I've waited patiently for hours on end to meet them. Beam me up, Scotty. She shoved the door open and said, "Unhand him, you cad!" Trying not to snicker.
Strider glared at her, then sighed, "Elizabeth-"
"I know, I know, you were trying to be fierce and in charge and whatnot but I've waited for ages without complaint. So can I please have my fun?" Frodo looked mystified and terrified all at once. She cleared her throat. "Ahem, Frodo the Hobbit. I am the Omnipotent seer and prophetess from the west! I have come to deliver a message of great importance; the creatures that stalk you in the night desire the One Ring you carry-"
"You are not frightened enough," interrupted Strider, exasperated.
"Hey! I was getting to that!" She huffed.
There was a bump outside, followed by, "I'll go first, then!" They both drew swords. She sighed, knowing what was coming. The door swung open to exhibit the other three halfling's, sporting odd weapons. She wasn't really sure how effective a candlestick and chair would be against a sharp, pointy sword. "Hi!" She said cheerfully.
They stopped momentarily in their tracks. Sam shook out of it, "Let him go or I'll have you, Longshanks!"
He sheathed his sword, smiling faintly. "You have a stout heart, little hobbit, but that alone won't save you. You can no longer wait for the wizard. They are coming."
"Who are you both?" Merry asked, giving them both a once-over.
"You may know me as Strider. This is-"
"I'm Elizabeth, prophetess of the west." She beamed, "Pleasure to meet ya."
Strider rubbed his temples. "She is not a prophetess. She is my sister, travelling from Rohan."
She glowered at him, "Spoil my fun, why don't you..."
"How do we know we can trust you?" Frodo asked, putting his own sword away.
"I know Gandalf the grey, he has been a friend of mine for many years."
"What about you?" Pippin piped up.
"What about me?" She said.
"Should we trust you?"
"Of course! I happen to be incredibly trustworthy. I know of your past and future events."
Pippin's eyes went as wide as saucers, "Like a seer?"
She winked, "Absolutely."
Strider spoke urgently. "We must move our sleeping arrangements to the next door inn and set up a diversion..."
"As completely random plans go, I'd say this was a pretty good one." She commented from her seat at the window, watching the street for signs of life.
They had relocated to the Harlot's tavern, which she felt was an inappropriate name. She got her bath in the end, hardly recognized who it was when she saw herself in the looking glass after a long hot soak; the dye had mainly faded, showing dark brown roots. Her skin had paled and seemed clearer, feasibly from lack of make up. Hahaha! Lost weight! The medieval diet has benefits! She struck a super hero pose, using the cloak like a cape. Light brown eyes stared back under thick eyelashes. Not beautiful. Maybe attractive, if I tried a little harder. High cheekbones from her father, wide hips, ample bosom and strong muscles from her mother. Eh, we're in Middle Earth. Nobody's going to care what I look like, anyway. Unless I'm in a fanfic, where I'll be a treasure of the elves and doing the horizontal tango with Leggy by the end of the day. That made her giggle.
She had obeyed Strider's plan without questions, for once. Only because she knew it had to be done, and now they sat in the tavern opposite, watching. The hobbits were fascinated with her. They seldom saw big people, yet alone a human woman. "I like her." Whispered Pippin to Sam, as she pestered Strider like a small child.
"You always like girls." Sam muttered.
"...I'm just sayin', a woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle-"
"I believe it's time to go to bed." Said Strider, "For all of you."
"Fine, fine. I can tell when it's time for me to shut up." They all slept relatively peacefully, especially Elizabeth (who hadn't slumbered in an actual bed for weeks), except for when they briefly woke to listen to some Ringwraiths making an attempt to slaughter their pillow-doubles while they dreamed.
Frodo was awake, standing at the window. "What are they?"
"They were once men." Strider said, "Great kings of men, then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. They are now slaves to his will." They glimpsed the five as they galloped away, screeching with rage.
Strider had taken them out of Bree and back into anonymous territory. Elizabeth did not like this. She was still dressed in her shorts and shirt, refusing Strider's cloak. "I don't need it now we're not in Bree! No one's going to take offence to kinky shirts when WE'RE NOT GOING TO MEET ANYONE!" She near shouted the last part. She was getting tired with the same routine. She chose to walk at the back, leading Bill the pony. "Poor baby", She murmured to him.
"Where are you taking to us?" implored Frodo.
"Into the wild," was the reply.
"Fergalicious, definition, make them boys go loco-"
"What's loco?" Asked Pippin.
"It means crazy", she informed them, kindly.
"If I might ask you, Miss, where are you from?" Sam said, timidly.
"Like Strider said, I'm from, um, Rohan." She then spouted off some more lyrics, making the majority blush. After a time of much singing and covering of ears (she did not have the most graceful voice), she requested that she have one of Sam's frying pans. He handed one over reluctantly, being a tiny bit scared of what she would do if he refused. "Thanks." She suddenly enveloped him in a big hug, "You were always my favourite, Sam!"
That left him blushing and wondering what she meant. "Must be something seers do." They all thought her to be a seer, despite what Strider said. Now I have my frying pan, all I need is a large stick... Aha! She spotted the perfect one lying a few meters away. She proceeded to whittle the end to a, hopefully, deadly point. Well, at least I'll be safe from vampires. I need some duct tape. Dammit! String will have to do. She took some from Merry's pack when he wasn't looking, though Pip did and he snorted. Fifteen minutes later, she had a flawless weapon of combat.
"What's that?" said Pippin, awestruck.
"This," She stopped for dramatic effect, "is a Frick. The bashing power of a frying pan, with the stabbing accuracy of a large, pointy stick." She was rather proud about constructing a weapon out of almost nothing, save for Sam's frying pan.
Chetwood, she decided, wasn't as annoying and quiet as the previous forest, but was a close contender in terms of trippy-up tree roots. What really pissed her off, was that she could feel her monthly's were around the corner. Cramps plagued her lower abdomen and she was irritable and bitchy for 80% of the day. This didn't make her a happy camper. She sang for the remaining 20%. By the time they reached Midgewater Marshes she was thoroughly ready to skin someone alive. Strider was still leading them across when the hobbits all stopped and set down their packs. He glanced back, intrigued as why they thought they were stopping. "Gentlemen? We do not stop until nightfall."
Pippin answered, "What about breakfast?"
"You've already had it."
"We've had one, yes. But what about second breakfast?"
Elizabeth chuckled when Strider stared blankly, then turned away, shaking his head. She hurried to catch up, wanting to where he got the apples. "I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip." Merry said sadly.
"What about Elvenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them... doesn't he?"
"I wouldn't count on it." They all looked very glum. Elizabeth sniggered from behind some shrubbery, poised to throw. The first came sailing out from the dense undergrowth, followed by the second. Merry caught his deftly. Pippin's hit him on the forehead. She pelted them with as many as she could, laughing breathlessly at the panicked expressions. She eventually collapsed on the ground from laughter. The others were too busy picking up apples to notice.
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