CHAPTER FOUR

TRUMPKIN

Trumpkin put the other dwarf's comb on a rock next to him and stood up. "Gimli?!" called a voice in the distance,

"Who's there?" Trumpkin called back.

"It's me…" an elf came around the corner and stopped dead, "who are you?" The elf had long blond hair, wore a green cloak and possessed a bow and quiver of arrows, "where is Gimli?" the elf asked Trumpkin.

"Is 'Gimli' a dwarf, a bit bigger then me?" Trumpkin asked.

"Yes, where is he?"

"Does he wear red and silver clothing and have a big red beard and an axe?"

"Yes, where is he?" the elf was getting annoyed.

"I think he's in Narnia."

"Where?" the elf's face was humorously confused.

"Narnia. It's a country, in a separate world, I think. Like this world, really. Where am I?"

"Look, are you being funny–"

"Legolas! Have you found–" A tall human with dark, wavy hair came around the corner. He possessed a sword, which was soon withdrawn when he saw Trumpkin, "Who are you and where is Gimli?"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Trumpkin warned him.

"Just answer the question."

"My name is Trumpkin and I think your 'Trumpkin' is in my country, Narnia, while I am in his world, where am I again? The elf never told me.

"'The elf' has a name," said the elf.

"Then I should like to know that name, and the human's, if he has one too?" Trumpkin replied.

"My name is Aragorn, also known to some as Strider," said the human, "and this is Legolas."

The elf glared at the human, "I can speak for myself."

"So I call the elf Legolas, and what do I call the human, if he has two names?" Trumpkin asked, half to himself.

"You call him Aragorn," Legolas told him.

"Right, so where amI?" Trumpkin asked for what felt like the tenth time.

"You are in Middle-earth. Precisely, we are in the elven city of Rivendell, soon to leave on a quest to go to Mordor, through the Black Gate, to MountDoom, to burn the One Ring. It can only be destroyed in the fiery chasm from whence it came," Legolas explained.

"Tell him the whole game-plan, why don't you. He could be a spy, he could have done anything to Gimli!" Aragorn turned on Legolas.

"Hello, me? Spy-like? I don't even know where I am." Trumpkin said to Aragorn.

"He has a point," Legolas pointed out.

"He could be lying," Aragorn contradicted Legolas' point.

"Would I lie about being lost?" In the midst of all this, Trumpkin's neck was beginning to ache.

"Maybe," said Aragorn.

"Pick on someone your own size, Ari."

"Like you, Leg?"

"STOP IT!" A person, about Trumpkin's size, but with larger and hairier feet, who had curly, dark brown hair and penetrating blue eyes and a gold chain which held a gold ring around his neck, came round the corner and stopped the heating argument between the human and the elf, "Gimli, why didn't you…" He stopped when he saw Trumpkin, "You're not Gimli."

Trumpkin shook his head, "I'm Trumpkin, you?"

"Frodo,"

"What are you? You're not a Dwarf…"
"Have you never seen a Hobbit before?"

"A what?"

"I'm a Hobbit. I guess you come from another world?"

"Narnia,"

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