The Elfling || A Frodo Baggins Love Story

A Friend of Gandalf's

We continued to make a run for it as the night wore on. It was foggy and looked ready to pour down rain at any moment.

“Do you see anything?!” Sam called out.

“Nothing,” Frodo answered.

“What is going on?” Pippin whined.

“That Black Rider was looking for something. Or for someone,” said Merry in a serious voice. It was rare to see Merry act so serious. He's usually the goofy one, other than Pippin. “Frodo?”

“Get down!” I hissed.

We immediately hid behind the nearest bush and cautiously peeked out over the top to see the Black Rider. A few seconds later, it walked away.

“I have to leave the Shire,” Frodo finally declared in a quiet voice. “Eirina, Sam, and I must get to Bree.”

“Right,” said Merry. “Buckleberry Ferry. Follow me!”

And with that, we took off at a sprint, making our way to the ferry. But we were soon being chased by the Black Riders once again, causing Frodo to slow down. But he managed to catch up with us, barely making it. He jumped onto the raft, collapsing into me as I tried to catch him in my arms. We both tumbled back. Once we were able to see everything correctly again, the Black Riders were already riding away.

“How far is it to the nearest crossing?” Frodo asked in a frantic voice.

“Brandywine Bridge,” said Merry in a grim voice. “Twenty miles.”

I pulled Frodo to his feet and engulfed him into a hug. He responded by hugging me tightly, and he buried his face into the crook of my neck, breathing shakily.

“Are you okay?” I breathed anxiously.

“I’m fine,” he answered. “You?”

I nodded.

“I’m fine. To be honest, I was more worried about you than myself.”

***
By the time we approached Bree, it was pouring down rain. We made sure to look both ways to make sure that we wouldn’t run into any more trouble, before crossing the road to the other side. Frodo frantically knocked on the door. An irritated gatekeeper answered us.

“What do you want?” he asked in an irritated voice.

“We’re headed to the Prancing Pony,” Frodo answered in a clear voice.

The gatekeeper grumbled before opening the door for us.

“Hobbits?!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Five Hobbits! And what business brings you to Bree?”

“We wish to stay at the Inn,” Frodo pleaded desperately. “Our business is our own.”

The gatekeeper did not sound too pleased by his answer, but he seemed to have respected our boundaries.

“Alright, young sir,” he grumbled. “I meant no offense. It’s my job to ask questions after nightfall. Talk of strange folk abroad. Can’t be too careful, now.”

He let us in and we made our way to Bree. After being shoved and shunned several times, we finally found the Prancing Pony. We went in, relieved to get away from the cold and rain. I could finally take off the hood of my cloak, and I breathed in a sigh of relief. Frodo approached the counter so that we could get our rooms.

“E-Excuse me?” he said in a polite voice.

“Good evening, young masters and mistress,” he greeted us in a cheerful voice. “If you’re looking for a place to stay, we’ve got some nice, cozy Hobbit-sized rooms for you, Mr. . . .?”

“Underhill,” Frodo answered after a second of hesitation. “My name is Underhill.”

“Underhill, yes?” said the inn keeper as he eyed Frodo suspiciously.

Frodo took this as a chance to distract him.

“We’re here to see Gandalf the Gray. Can you tell him that we've arrived?”

The inkeeper looked confused before he finally brightened up.

“Oh, yes! I remember, now. Elderly chap. Big, grey beard, and pointy hat, hmm?” Frodo nodded. The bright smile on the inkeeper’s face turned into a concerned frown. “Haven’t seen him for six months, now.”

And with that, he turned to face some other guests who were waiting for their orders. We gathered around in a circle, trying to decide what we should do. In the end, we agreed on staying for the night and waiting for Gandalf’s arrival.

“Sam, don’t worry,” said Frodo in a quiet voice. “He’ll be here. He’ll come.”

“Out of my way!” said one of the men to Merry as he came back with a rather large drink. “Watch where you're going!”

Immediately, Pippin looked very interested.

“What is that?” he asked in an eager voice.

“This, my friend, is a pint,” said Merry with a hint of relish in his voice.

“It comes in pints?”

“Hmmph!”

“I’m getting one.”

And with that, Pippin left the table to get one at the bar.

“What the —?! You’ve had a whole half already!” I spluttered in shock. I turned back around, shaking my head. “Boys!”

“That fellow’s done nothing but stare at you since we’ve arrived,” Sam suddenly announced. We all turned to the direction he was talking about. And sure enough, a man sat in the corner, smoking a pipe. Frodo finally stopped the nearest server.

“Excuse me?” he said. The man stopped and bent down to his level so that he could speak to him. “That man in the corner. Who is he?”

“He’s one of them Rangers,” he answered in a quiet voice. “Dangerous folk, they are, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I’ve never heard of. But around here, he’s known as Strider.”

The name caused me to tense. I’ve heard of the name Strider before. I just couldn't remember where.

“Strider,” Frodo murmured in a quiet voice.

A sudden ringing noise was heard in my ears. I couldn’t concentrate. I could hear a ringing in my ears, and a voice in my head. I couldn’t understand what the voice was saying, though. But I could tell that it was not pleasant, whatever it was. I didn’t know what was going on until Sam started shaking my shoulder.

“Eira, we’ve gotta go! That man has taken Frodo!”

I scrambled to my feet and followed Sam blindly up the stairs, trying hard to not trip over my own feet.

“Let him go!” said Sam in a furious voice. “Or I’ll have you, Longshanks!”

Strider looked slightly amused at Sam’s defensiveness, as he sheathed his sword back in its place.

“You’ve got a stout heart, little Hobbit,” he finally commented. “But that will not save you. You can no longer wait for your wizard, Frodo. They are coming.”

We chose different rooms, as we knew that the Black Riders would be searching the previous room we'd decided to spend the night in. Strider had several beds pushed against each other in his room so that we could all be under his protection. While I knew that we were somewhat safe, I could not sleep. And neither could Frodo.

At around midnight, we heard the loud, distressed, furious shrieking from the Nazgul. The shrieking was so loud that it woke everyone else up. Frodo tensed up at my side.

“What are they?” he finally asked. Strider turned to face him.

“They were once Men. Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave them the Nine Rings of Distruction. Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Ring Wraiths. Neither living, nor dead. And at all times, they feel the presence of the Ring. They will never stop hunting you.”