Chapter Nine

Sam felt sick. They had travelled for days and had finally reached the end of the maze like cliffs. Now they could see marshes, marshes for further than Sam could see it was hopeless. Nothing they could do could ever get them through the endless bogs that stank with the putrid stench of the rotting dead. It was hopeless.

"Sméagol, what is this?" Frodo asked apprehensively.

"A path, a path Sméagol finds. Orcses don't use it, orcses don't know it. Follow Sméagol closely, hobbits." More and more days passed, and Sam could see Frodo's wellbeing decrease each hour. It pained Sam to see his master so sad, and so he took to staring into the water, until, he saw it.

"There are dead bodies in here!" he squeaked, only half surprised that his voice was an octave higher than usual.

"Yes, there was a great battle, many, many years ago. Elves and Men and orcses. All dead. Don't follow the lights, or hobbitses will go down join the dead, and light little candles of their own."

All of a sudden Treebeard stopped walking.

"Here we are." He droned. The he paused, and looked suspiciously at the hobbits, who always questioned every previous statement. But they were fast asleep.

"Oh." He said. Then he gently placed them in a grove on the soft grass. "Sleep little Halflings. I will be back at dawn. There is business, yes; very urgent business to attend to in the forest." And with that he left them sleeping on the forest floor

Alone.

Ello knelt by Théodred's bedside and Éowyn showed here the deep, infected wound on his side. Her visions had been right; he only had minutes to live, and that was clear to everyone. Ello swallowed deeply, but the king's desperate eyes bored into her.

"Can you help him?" he whispered.

"I don't know. Maybe, if we're lucky." She pulled out her first aid kit and started to wipe anti-bacterial wipes around the wound. Grimacing, she quietly asked for a bowl of warm water. For an hour she worked over the young man's body, and when Théoden came in, she gave him a wry smile.

The dying prince, Théodred, looked up and smiled at his father weakly.

Théoden wept, and grasped at his son's hand, completely unashamed. "How is this possible?" he asked Ello.

"he is still in a bad way, my Lord, but the medicine has given him a chance. He needs some stew or something to keep up his strength. I've done my best."

Aragorn was walking outside along the gates of Edoras, when he saw the horse. It was riding towards Edoras, and the King could distinguish two small figures on its back. They were children; a small girl, and a boy possibly in his early teens. The boy looked exhausted, and the girl desperate.

He watched helplessly as the boy's eyes closed and he fell to the ground.

Frodo followed Sméagol through the marshes, and could not help but stare occasionally at the faces under the water, preserved perfectly by the natural chemicals in the bog. Hours and hours they walked, and Frodo desperately hoped that on the way back (if there was a way back) that they would not have to return (if they did return) through the bogs. Frodo's heart was full of despair, and Sam was helping, he realised. He would not have got half as far without Sam, but he still felt like the ring was taking him. Then he stopped, and stared into the water. The dead face below the surface looked mesmerizing, and then it opened its eyes.

Sam yelled in shock as Frodo toppled face first into the water. "Mr. Frodo!" he yelled, and even from the distance he was away, he could see Frodo thrashing around under the water.

Frodo was terrified; green ghost were surrounding him, he couldn't breathe he was going to drown! Strong skinny arms wrapped around his chest and hauled him out of the water. Frodo wretched and gasped as Sméagol scrambled off him.

"Sméagol?" he gasped.

Sméagol scowled at him. "Don't follow the lights!" he spat, and Sam shook his head disgustedly.

Merry groaned and woke. Where am I? He asked silently. "Pip?" he called quietly. "Pip?"

"Oh, Merry, you're up!" cried Pippin, who was sitting on a tree root drinking from a bowl of water. He stood up as Merry approached, and Merry gasped. "Pippin! You're taller!"

Pippin looked confused. "Taller than what?" Pippin asked.

"Than me!"

"Merry, I've always been taller than you." Pippin lied earnestly.

Merry put his hands on his hips. "Pippin, everyone knows that I am the tall one; you're the short one." Then Merry's eyes spied the freshwater stream behind Pippin. "Pippin, you drank it! I want some!"

"No Merry!" Pippin cried, but Merry had drunk a whole glass. Pippin chased Merry around the tree, sloshing water everywhere, and then the roots moved.

"Ah! Merry, it's got my feet!" Pippin yelled, terrified.

"Mine too!"

But however hard they struggled, Merry and Pippin were pulled deep down, into the earth itself.

Ello woke with a start, her nightmare still chasing her, the motion of falling still carrying her with it. She jerked upright, and was surprised to see Éowyn, the maiden niece of the King, standing beside her bed.

"I was told to come and wake you, and bring you to the throne room. It is alright!" she hastily added as Ello's eyes widened. "You are in no trouble, but you look like I told you that it was your execution. Do you have any other clothes? I am sure your old ones are not that comfortable, plastered with mud." Éowyn asked calmly. She had not rushed what she had said, and Ello felt like she could trust Éowyn, the same instinct that drew her to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, not to mention Gandalf and Galadriel, or Sam and- It hurt to think his name, and strangely Ello missed him more than her brothers, or her father. Frodo. The ring made her terrified for him

"No, My Lady. At least, none that would be anything like what you all wear here, as I come from very, very far away." She smiled nervously, and Éowyn grinned back.

"It does not matter what type of clothes you wear, and we would prefer it if you were comfortable. Besides, the King is intrigued by you and your companions; he should like to see what you usually wear. I will leave you for a moment, your bag is there." Éowyn rose and left.

A minute later she was shocked by what Ello was wearing when she came of the door. It was not disrespectful, just... strange. Ello had not paid attention to what she had thrown out at the river, but all she was left with was a pair of leggings she had ripped to three quarter length that sat underneath an intricately decorated long floaty top that came down to her mid thighs. It was in fact Singaporean, but there was no point in telling anyone that. Her hair was braided over her shoulder in a fishtail plait, with a thin gold Alice-Band perched on top of her head.

Éowyn blinked. "Well, it is different, but not half as bad as I was expecting from the look on your face. It is fine. Come." Ello followed her down a long corridor which led into the throne room she had seen the day before.

Gimli watched intently as Ello was led into the room. They had been told she must wear her own clothes, and Gimli felt proud of her; she had done her best to look decent with what she had. Gandalf was out 'arranging important things yet to come' but Gimli still was unsure of the King; Aragorn and Gandalf both trusted him, but something was causing Gimli to be uneasy. Ello still looked scared as ever, so Gimli did not know what to think. Ello was soon standing amongst them and Legolas whispered in her ear. "Do you trust the King?" he breathed. She took a deep breath, and then whispered back. "I think so. I have no instinct telling me otherwise, but he scares me. Something bad is going to happen. Soon."

Authors Note: not very happy with this chapter- it is just little snippets of everyone- sorry! Next chapter will try to be better! Promise!

Hobbsy3