Story [The Lord of the Rings] A Fellowship of 10

A Fellowship of 10
Chapter I – A Knife in the Dark Part 1
29 September 1418 (Shire Reckoning) 3018 Third Age
Bree, Breeland
As Sam, Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Strider left the Prancing Pony a young Bree hobbit came up to them.

“I would like to come with you, Mr Underhill,” she said.

“I am sorry, but this is not a pleasure trip, miss. We will be in danger. You know that the Pony was attacked last night,” Strider said.

“I do know that the Pony was attacked Mr Ranger,” the young hobbitess said.

“It will be a dangerous journey,” Frodo said.

“I am aware of that,” the young Hobbitess said. “I’m coming.”

“Give me a good reason why,” Strider said.

“I know the lands round about,” she answered.

“I know them better,” Strider said.

“And I have always wanted to know what’s out there. To see things. Beyond Bree and the Shire.”

Strider was then in thought. “I see that you’re persistent. You’re not in Bill Ferny’s confidence are you?”

She looked offended. “Of course not!”

“You may come along,” Strider said. “I see you’re prepared. I know who you are…”

The Hobbitess interrupted. “You do?”

“I know most in the Breeland.”

She wasn’t sure what to think of that. “I see.”

“These Shirefolk don’t though,” Strider said.

“Oh! I’m Hanna Tunnelly.”

“Hi, Hanna,” Frodo said, warily.

The other three welcomed her more warmly. The one she knew to be Merry Brandybuck most of all.

“We have to be underway,” Strider said.

They tramped off, anxious and downhearted (except for Hanna, who was merely anxious), under the eyes of the crowd. Not all the faces were friendly, nor all the words that were shouted.

They walked out of the village, past the last house, the one belonging to Bill Ferny. Hanna saw the man himself boldly staring over the hedge. She shuddered a he looked at her in a particular way. He then glared at the Hobbits in general, before talking to Strider in a derogatory tone. “…Found some friends at last?” he concluded.

Strider only answered with a nod.

“Morning, my little friends,” he said to the Hobbits. I suppose you know who you have taken up with?” He asked rhetorically. “That Stick-at-naught Strider, that is! Though I’ve heard other names not so pretty. Watch out tonight. And you, Samwise don’t be go ill-treating my poor old pony!” He then spat, again.

Hanna shuddered, before Sam Gamgee fired off a retort and threw an apple at him that hit him square on the nose. “Waste of a good apple,” Sam said regretfully as curses erupted from behind the hedge.

‘Well, deserved!’ Hanna thought.


They followed the Road for some miles, before coming to a track that lead off towards the North. “This is where we leave the open and take to cover,” said Strider.

Pippin didn’t like that. “Not a ‘short cut’, I hope. Our last short cut through woods nearly ended in disaster.”

Strider laughed. “Ah, but you had not got me with you then. My cuts, short or long don’t go wrong.” He took a look up and down the Road. No one was in sight; and he led the way quickly down towards the wooded valley.


The Shire Hobbits enjoyed that part of the journey better than any they had had so far. The woods in the valley were still leafy and full of colour, and seemed peaceful and wholesome. Frodo saw that the Strider guided them confidently among the many crossing paths. He was certain that even Merry would have been at a loss if they were left to themselves. He looked at Hanna and she seemed to be in awe of the Ranger, especially as they were taking a wandering path.
“Bill Ferny would have watched where we left the Road, for certain,” Strider said. “Although I don’t think we will follow us himself. He knows the land around here well enough, but he knows he is not a match for me in a wood. It is what he may tell others I’m afraid off. I don’t suppose they are far away. If the think we have made for Archet, so much the better.”

‘That’s not reassuring,’ Frodo thought.


2 October 1418 SR
“We’re close to the Marshes now, aren’t we?” Hanna asked Strider as she walked with him shortly after they broke camp.

“Yes. We’ll get there today,” Strider answered.

“Great. Your description isn’t encouraging.”

“You haven’t been?”

“No further than the Forsaken Inn, along the Road,” Hanna confirmed. “We passed the area I know yesterday morning.”

“Keep up and you’ll be fine,” Strider encouraged.

Hanna nodded.


4 October 1418 SR
As they emerged from the last of the marshes they saw a line of hills in the distance to the east. The highest of them was at the right of the line and little separated from the others. It had a conical top, slightly flattened at the summit.

“That is Weathertop,” said Strider. “The Old Road, which we have left far away on our right, runs to the south of it and passes not far from its foot. We might reach it by noon tomorrow, if we go straight towards it. I suppose we had better do so.’

“What do you mean?” asked Frodo.

“I mean: when we do get there, it is not certain what we shall find. It is close to the Road.”

“But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there?” Frodo asked.

“That’s unlikely,” Hanna said before Strider could answer.

“She’s right, the hope is faint. If he comes this way at all, he may not pass through Bree, and so he may not know what we are doing. And anyway, unless by luck we arrive almost together, we shall miss another; it will not be safe for him or for us to wait there long. If the Riders fail to find us in the wilderness, they are likely to make for Weathertop themselves,” Strider said.
“It commands a wide view all around. Indeed, there are many birds and beasts in this country that could see us, as we stand here, from that hill-top. Not all the birds can be trusted, and there are other spies more evil than they are.”

The hobbits looked anxiously at the distant hills. Sam looked up into the pale sky, fearing to see hawks or eagles hovering over them with bright unfriendly eyes. “You do make me feel uncomfortable and lonesome, Strider!” he said.

“I agree with Sam,” Hanna said.

“What do you advise us to do?” asked Frodo.

“I think the best thing is to go as straight eastward from here as we can, to make for the line of hills, not for Weathertop. There we can strike a path I know runs at their feet; it will bring us to Weathertop from the north and less openly. Then we shall see what we shall see.”

“I guess so,” Hanna commented.


They plodded along all day into land that became much drier than the marshes they had left behind. They set camp under some stunted alder-trees by the shores of a stream that wandered down towards the marshlands.


5 October 1418 SR
They set out again soon after sunrise. “You look twice the Hobbit you have been,” Pippin said to Frodo after the latter had commented that they had not missed second breakfast.

“Very odd,” Frodo said as he tightened his belt. “Considering that there is actually a good deal less of me. I hope the thinning process shall not go on indefinitely, or I shall become a wraith!”

“Do not speak of such things!” Strider said quickly and earnestly, surprising all five hobbits.

‘I shall not,’ Hanna decided. ‘But there must have been a reason he said that.’ She wasn’t sure what to make of it. But she would find out the next night.


6 October 1418 SR
Early in the morning they found a path that was plain to see. As they went southwards along it, Hanna considered that whoever had built it had built it an a way so as to keep it as secret from distant observers as possible.

“I wonder who made this path, and what for,” said Merry as they walked along an avenue where close set stones hid the path from either side. “I’m not sure I like it” It has a – well rather a barrow-wrightish look. Is there are barrow on Weathertop?”

“No. There is no barrow on Weathertop, nor on any of these hills,” Strider answered. “The Men of the West did not live here; though in their later days they defended the hills for a while against the evil that came out of Angmar. This path was built to serve the forts along the walls. But long before, in the first days of the North Kingdom, they built a great watch-tower on Weathertop, Amon Sul they called it.
It was burned and broken, and nothing remains of it now but a tumbled ring, like a rough crown on the old hill’s head. Yet it was tall and fair. It is told that Elendil stood there waiting for the coming of Gil-galad out of the West in the days of the Last Alliance.”

That was an unexpected side to Strider. That he seemed to be learned in old lore as well as in the ways of the wild.

“Who was Gil-galad?” Merry asked.

Strider didn’t answer, but one came from an unexpected source.

“Gil-galad was an Elven-king…”

Sam stopped after a few verses.

“Don’t stop,” Merry said.

“That’s all I know,” Sam said with a blush. “I learned it from Mr. Bilbo when I was a lad. He used to tell me tales like that, knowing how I was always one for hearing about Elves. It was Mr. Bilbo as taught me my letters. He was mighty book-learned was dear old Mr. Bilbo. And he wrote poetry. He wrote what I have just said.

“He did not make it up,” Strider said. “It is part of the lay that is called The Fall of Gil-galad, which is in an ancient tongue. Bilbo must have translated it. I didn’t know that.”

“There was a lot more,” Sam explained. “All about Mordor. I didn’t learn that part, it gave me the shivers. I never thought I should be going that way myself.”

“Going to Mordor!” Pippin cried. “I hope it won’t come to that!”

“Don’t speak that name so loudly,” Strider said.


Just hearing that name gave Hanna shivers. She hoped that they wouldn’t have to go there.

 

Not an auspicious sign for a Tenth Walker tale ...

... I'm trying to think of a place on our Earth that make one shiver like that. I'll work on it.

 

Enjoyed meeting Hanna. She seems to be fitting right in with all the adventuring. You have the tone/atmosphere just right.