A fan fiction attempt

[Beruthiel's cat]

I have gotten up the nerve to post the first 1 1/2 chapters of a fan fiction story that I've been working on for awhile. I would appreciate any comments you may be willing to give and if you are interested, I will post updates as I complete more of the narrative.

Warning: This is a romance, so if you prefer battles, war and mayhem, you will not find it here. I like to use orginal characters along with established characters. My original characters are (I think) people who you might meet in Middle Earth. I have given them lives and backstories that are, I believe, consistent with characters that might have lived there.

I will not have computer access over the weekend, but go ahead and post your comments. I'll get to them on Monday.

I especially would like to know if anything is downright confusing (as opposed to mysterious). I look forward to your comments.

Thanks!


EDIT some additional comments ---

As I make progress on this story, I am discovering things (after all, writing is a journey of discovery) that are taking lives of their own that I didn't expect at the beginning. I'm blocking out a rather violent scene at the moment, and the romance is going to take a rather long time to come about, I fear. So, there is a bit of action and adventure included -- much to my surprise!

Please read and enjoy (and comment).

Or--

Please read and don't enjoy (and comment).

Thank you! ;)

[Beruthiel's cat]

ONLY LOVE WILL
by Beruthiel’s Cat

Chapter One: Amaris

There it was. Done and said. Pippin could tell by the stiffness of Gandalf’s stance he was none too pleased with it. But Pippin had declared his fealty to Denethor, Steward of Gondor and there was no going back. Pippin took several steps back from the dias. His glance swept the room, afraid to look at either Gandalf or Denethor. At a table in the corner of the hall a young woman sat, writing.

“I will see that when you are finished, Amaris.”

The young woman looked up from her work. “Yes, my lord Steward. It is nearly done.”
A few more strokes with the quill. She rose and presented the document to him. Denethor read it and returned it to the waiting Amaris.

“Quite accurate. Transfer the oath to parchment. I will seal it and send it to the archives.”

“Yes, my lord.” She returned to the table and began gathering her things.

“Make note also that Peregrin, son of Paladin this day was issued a suit of armor and arms appropriate to his station.”

“Yes, Lord Denethor.” She looked toward Pippin and Gandalf, a small smile touching her mouth. “Is there anything else?”

“Send Nedron here to replace you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

She scrolled several sheets of vellum and gathered them together with two quills and an ink-pot.

Denethor turned his gaze to Pippin and the wizard. “You are dismissed until I have further need of you!”

Gandalf grabbed the young Hobbit by the shoulder and guided him quickly from the Great Hall. “I hope you are prepared to live up to the promise you just made. You are a knight of Gondor. You may be expected to do things that you have little experience in.”

“I’ve tried to settle a debt I owe, Gandalf. I meant no harm.” He looked the wizard in the eye, an earnest look on his face.

Gandalf smiled a half-smile. “You never do mean harm, my boy, and, oddly, little harm seems to result from your actions, however foolish they may seem.” He patted Pippin on the head. “You either posses incredible luck or incredible wisdom. Most likely it’s luck.”

A page approached, carrying a bundle of things. “These are for Sir Peregrin, Lord Mithrandir.” He addressed Gandalf, looking sideways at Pippin. “I’ve been asked to show you the way to your quarters.”

Pippin held out his arms. “Thank you. I can take them.” The boy deposited a very heavy load into the Hobbit’s outstretched arms and topped the bundle with a sword and scabbard. He then rushed off without a backward glance, leaving Hobbit and wizard standing just outside the Hall.

“Ah. The accouterments of your new office. Can you manage to get them to our quarters or do you need help?”

Pippin frowned, offended. “I can do it, thank you!” He started down the corridor at a trot, turning right at the next corner, trying to keep in sight of the young page. Suddenly, sword, armor and helmet mixed with scrolls, quills and an ink-pot as they flew to the floor, clattering and, in the case of the ink-pot, smashing. Pippin sprawled forward to the floor. Amaris landed soundly on her rump, a hobbit nearly falling into her lap.

“My ink! Oh dear!” A black stain was spreading across the floor and splash marks sprayed the wall. She leaned over Pippin and snatched a scroll before the pool of ink could spread to it. “I’ll never be able to clean this up. And my clothes are ruined.” She brushed futilely at her light blue gown, causing a large smear. She looked at Pippin who had ink spattered on his cheek and all over his cloak. “And yours!”

“I’m so sorry, my lady!” He noticed a black splotch at the tip of her nose and started to laugh. “I really am very sorry.”

“Well, it isn’t funny!”

“No. But it is. You have a spot of ink right at the tip of your nose. And, I’m sorry, but it does look funny!”

“Perhaps your first duty for the Steward should be the Cleaning Detail.”

Gandalf stood, calmly surveying the damage. He placed his staff in front of him and whispered a few words in a low voice. The ink stains slowly disappeared from floor, wall, Hobbit and human. The shattered ink-pot repaired itself. Amaris retrieved it and lifted the lid.

“It’s full of ink!” She smiled up him. “Thank you. Wizards are handy folk to have around, no matter what the Steward says.”

[Beruthiel's cat]

Pippin scrambled up and extended his hand to help her. “Oh, you’ve no idea how true that is!”

Gandalf chuckled. “Especially when there are Hobbits in the neighborhood!”

Amaris grasped Pippin’s hand and rose gracefully from the floor. She was slender, neither tall nor short (for a Big Person), had copper-colored hair and eyes to match. She was very pretty and very young, much younger than he had first thought. He helped her gather her scattered papers. “I really am sorry,” he apologized, “I should have been watching where I was going.”

Amaris began brushing off the backside of her gown. “Well, aside from somewhat bruised dignity, no harm is done. Are you all right?”

By the Shire, she was pretty! “Oh, yes. I’m fine.” Pippin felt his cheeks start to turn warm. They stared at each other silently for a few moments.

Amaris’ cheeks were becoming rosier. “Ah, well, then,” she said. “I’ll just be going. I have work to do. I’m sure we’ll – bump into each other again, Sir Peregrin.” Her smile lit up the narrow, twilit street.

“I’m sure we will.” Pippin watched her turn to leave. “You can call me Pippin. Everybody does.”

“Until later, then. Pippin.” She strode purposefully down the street, turned the corner and was gone. It seemed a bit darker somehow.

Gandalf had gathered Pippin’s scattered things. The young page must have realized they had not followed him, because he had returned and was fidgeting by the wall a few feet away.

“Shall we proceed, Pippin?” asked Gandalf. The Hobbit was still staring back down the lane.

“Um – of course.” He and the wizard followed the boy to their rooms in silence.

“Do you think she’s pretty, Gandalf?” Pippin finally asked.

“Who? Amaris, you mean? Well, I suppose she is. A bit young for me, though, don’t you think?”

“Of course she is! I just wondered if she’s – I mean if you think – know – if Big People – Men – think she’s pretty.” Pippin stammered.

Gandalf looked gravely at his young friend. “You have already done one rash thing today, Pippin, by pledging fealty to a stubborn and grieving old man. Don’t do something else just as impulsive by losing your heart to a young woman who is unquestionably one of the greatest beauties in Minas Tirith.”

Pippin blushed from the tips of his ears on down. “I haven’t lost anything. I just asked – was making conversation.”

“My dear boy. I have seen more in my lifetimes than you will ever know. And I have seen that look before. You lost your heart to her the moment you laid eyes on her.”

Pippin was embarrassed but emboldened by Gandalf’s statement. “And what of her heart, then? What did her look tell you?”

“That life at Minas Tirith might be complicated by more than mere war.” Gandalf opened the door to their rooms and went in ahead of the Hobbit. Pippin followed, feeling light as a feather, grinning from ear to ear.

One of the greatest beauties in Minas Tirith! And, it seemed, they had quite knocked each other off their feet. Now it was just a matter of seeing her again. How fortunate that they were both in service to the Steward!

[Beruthiel's cat]

Chapter Two: Assignment

Reports from Osgiliath were disturbing. The east side of the river-port city was now occupied by Sauron’s troops and it seemed that they were massing for an assault. In Minas Tirith, provisions were being laid in for siege and the armory was constantly busy.

Pippin was surprised, therefore, to be summoned to the Archives of Gondor the next afternoon. Gandalf was there with an old man, tiny, bent and fragile as dust. Gandalf introduced him as Nedron, the Chief Archivist of Gondor.

Nedron greeted the hobbit warmly and with a surprisingly strong handshake. “A pleasure to meet you Master Took – or should I say Sir Peregrin, son of Paladin?” A smile crinkled his face, his eyes lost in wrinkles. “You have met my assistant Amaris, I believe?”

Amaris was hardly recognizable. Her hair had been shorn to above her shoulders and she was dressed in a boy’s loose fitting tunic and trousers. “Hello, Pippin.” She bent to tie her boot-lace.

“There is something important I need the two of you to do,” the Archivist began without preamble. “Osgiliath is overrun in the east, which is most unfortunate. It is there that the archives of that city lie, and in them is a very important document – a book, actually. It is the official record of the lineage of the Kings and Stewards of Gondor. Before all is done we may have need of the information contained in that volume. So I need someone to retrieve it. My foolish young scribe volunteered immediately. But I don’t want her to risk going all alone, so Gandalf suggested that you go along with her.” The old man gave Pippin a long, appraising look. “He said you might be useful. I trust that he is correct in his judgement.”

“I’ll do what I can, sir. If it will be of help.”

“I can do it alone!” Amaris frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. Pippin noticed she looked a lot more like a girl when she did that.

“My child! I will not have you going into a city overrun with orcs and Haradrim by yourself! Do not argue and do not try to take this on yourself! You will go with young Peregrin, since you insist on going, and that is the end of it!” Nedron’s anger was obviously a mask for his concern for her.

Amaris backed down. “I’m sorry, Master.” She walked over to Nedron and put her arms around him. “I know you are worried. But Pippin will be a great help.” She looked at the hobbit, seemingly unsure of her assertion.

Gandalf cleared his throat. “It is of the utmost urgency that you get started as soon as possible.” He handed them each a pack containing a few provisions. “You need weapons. And Pippin, you can’t go to Osgiliath dressed in the uniform of a Citadel guard.” He picked up a bundle of clothes. “Here are your travel clothes. Put them on quickly. You need to be away before mid-afternoon.”

[Beruthiel's cat]

All comments on the above will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading. :)

[Rosie Gamgee]

Interesting... I suppose I'm quite partial to the story, since it involves dear Pippin (y'know, I looked 'pippin' up in the dictionary, it it said that a 'pippin' is an extrordinary thing or person of it's kind. Much more interesting history behind that name that 'Samwise' or 'Merry'. Cool!). An interesting addition to the story- Pippin going to Osgiliath to pinch the record-book of the Stewards. I shall enjoy seeing him get out of whatever peril he will undoubtedly land his adorably foolish self into. :D

[Beruthiel's cat]

Thanks, Rosie! Nice to see you back and posting! I have plans for Pippin, all right! (Heh heh heh) I'm busily typing away at the next part of the chapter! Thanks for the deffinition of "pippin," too. I didn't know that and it is really appropriate, don't you think? Love it!

Will Pippin contiue getting into trouble? Well -- define "trouble." And he might just learn a lesson or two in the process. And remember, growing up is very difficult for everyone...

[Nimbrennil]

That's neat I like. :) If you can, pwease continue! I am getting really interested... hmm... So please go on, it's quite interesting! :)

[Rosie Gamgee]

Originally posted by Beruthiel's cat
Thanks, Rosie! Nice to see you back and posting! I have plans for Pippin, all right! (Heh heh heh) I'm busily typing away at the next part of the chapter! Thanks for the deffinition of "pippin," too. I didn't know that and it is really appropriate, don't you think? Love it!

Will Pippin contiue getting into trouble? Well -- define "trouble." And he might just learn a lesson or two in the process. And remember, growing up is very difficult for everyone...

Did I leave? Hm, maybe I did...:D
Well, you're welcome. Do keep typing. I love this fan fic stuff. I'll have to try my own fingers at it sometime. Just got to find an appropriate story line somewhere.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Here is the second section of my previously posted story. Comments big and small are greatly appreciated.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Lunch was spare – bread, dried apples, and water. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to road rations,” sighed Pippin, chewing the last of his apple.

“There’s likely to be less before there is more, Master Peregrin.” Amaris took a drink from her water skin. “This will have to do for now.” She settled herself onto the saddle of the mule they had managed to sneak out of the stables. “Need a hand up, Ernil i Pheriannath?”

Pippin’s arm stopped midway into the air. “What?” He turned bright scarlet. “Where did you hear that?”

“It’s what folks are calling you all over the city. ‘Prince of the Halflings.’ I live in a library, not in a cave, you know. I hear things.”

Pipping grasped her outstretched arm. “Well, I’m hardly a prince.” He pulled himself up and settled behind her. “My father is Thain, but it’s not as important a position as it was at one time. It’s pretty much just a title now. We’re pretty much like everyone else in the Shire.”

The mule side-stepped slightly at the increased weight. “Whoa, there. Easy.” The beast brayed loudly, but stood still at Amaris’ command. “This should be interesting. I’m not much of a horsewoman at the best of times. I’m adequate. But, if this is the mule I think it is, she’s smart and relatively tractable.” Another loud protest from the mule. “For a mule.”

“You see? I can’t be a prince. Princes don’t ride mules.”

“No. But they can be mules sometimes.” Amaris urged her mount forward.

“Oh. You’ve a lot of experience with princes, have you?”

“You’d be surprised.” They headed toward the gate that opened onto the plains surrounding Minas Tirith. “You’ll have to tell me more about the Thains of the Shire sometime. Tooks strike me as somewhat mulish, at least according to Gandalf.”

“Why? What did he say?” Pippin was a bit affronted.

“That you have a tendency to put your little hobbit nose in places it doesn’t belong.” They rode through the gate and onto the open road. “I heard him telling Nedron about the palantir. Nice diversion tactic. Too bad it was an accident.”

“Look. There’s no use getting testy. Nedron and Gandalf didn’t want you to do this on your own. And I suspect that Gandalf didn’t want me getting in the way. So it looks like we’re stuck with each other for the time being. We have to make the best of it.”

They rode east in silence for awhile. The landscape surrounding the city was quite open and they were easily seen. But they were not the only people on the road, as there were solemn farmers and grim-faced soldiers making their way to and fro with horses and wagons. The sky was grey and there was no movement in the air. It seemed oppressive, almost stuffy, even though it was barely March.

“This weather makes me a bit uncomfortable. It’s not natural. It should be wet and windy, not like this.” Amaris shifted to look around at Pippin. “I’m sorry I was cross with you. I hope you don’t mind sitting behind me. I know you rode in front of Gandalf on Shadowfax, but I don’t think I could see around you as well as he can. I’m not as tall.”

“I’m fine.” Pippin could see well enough by peering around her shoulder. Amaris might be dressed like a boy, but, he noted, she didn’t smell like one. She smelled like wind and spring flowers.

The afternoon light was beginning to dim when they reached an old, abandoned farmstead. The four walls of the house each leaned out at a different angle, and there was no roof. Amaris rode in through the open door and dismounted. Pippin jumped down and tethered the mule as Amaris removed the packs and the saddle.

“We have to go on foot the rest of the way. We’re about three miles from the western side of the city. We can’t risk being seen by anyone. Even our own troops. We have to stay off the road and under as much cover as we can.”

“Not much of that!”

Amaris began pulling up handfuls of tall, dry grass and began sticking it in her hair and in her clothing. “We have to make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible.” She put a large clump down her back. “Hurry up, Pippin! Stuff yourself!” She gave him a wicked little smile.

He grabbed some tall tufts and stuck them up his sleeves. “Same to you!” He tossed a loose clod of dirt at her.

In a few minutes, two very odd scarecrows were making their way across a grassy field, the taller one in the lead. “If I really thought about this,” Amaris whispered, “I’d probably laugh myself sick.”

Pippin snorted. “If I were to make a comment, which I won’t, of course, it would be that we’ve both made grasses of ourselves.”

Amaris wheeled around to face him. “That was absolutely the worst pun I’ve ever heard! I suppose you’re quite proud of yourself.”

“Terribly. Yes.”

“You realize this is a very serious mission, don’t you? We shouldn’t be making jokes.”

“But you have to admit, it makes the time go faster.” Pippin smiled up at her guilelessly. “I don’t suppose we could do with a bit of supper now?”

“Can you eat and walk at the same time?”

“That’s never been a problem. Though it isn’t usually necessary.”

“It is today.” Amaris fished something out of her pack. “Here’s some travel bread. And a piece of dried beef. Enjoy!” She sipped a sliver of beef into her mouth. “Thank goodness we have a decent supply of water. And we should be able to get more. At least until we get across the river.”

“How are we getting across the river, anyway? Isn’t the bridge down?”

“Can you swim, Pippin?”

They came to a slight rise in the terrain and Pippin looked down. The Anduin, about a mile away, opened before him in a wide, grey ribbon. “Do you mean to say we’re swimming all the way across and back? I should think you wouldn’t want the book to get wet. Actually I can swim, yes. Cousin Bilbo and Frodo taught me years ago. They didn’t want the same thing happen to me as happened to poor Frodo’s parents. They drowned when he was very young. So all the cousins got swimming lessons and learned how to paddle boats.”

Amaris stared at him for a moment. “Well, that’s more of an answer than I expected! Are you always so forthcoming, Sir Peregrin?”

“Another way of telling me I talk too much, I suppose. I’ve been told that before. But I can’t seem to help it. My mind works better if my mouth is working, too.”

“Well, that remains to be seen. I’m not sure we’ll be able to find any boats. Occasionally, some have been left for travelers to use, but they’d be much farther north, near Cair Andros.”

“I see. So, how wide is the river, then?”

“About a quarter mile. But it’s relatively shallow. This time of year it’s getting deeper, because the snow is melting in the mountains, but it’s probably no deeper than 10 feet at the old ford north of the bridge. That’s where a boat should be, if there are any.”

“And if there aren’t?’

Amaris was silent for a long while. “If there aren’t, we must trust the kindness of fate and your good hobbit luck. And Gandalf assures me that you are the luckiest hobbit he’s ever met.” She turned to face him with an encouraging smile.

Pippin was beginning to feel dread in the pit of his stomach. They were on a fool’s errand.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Chapter Three: Across the Anduin

Twilight dimmed to a black velvet sky. The clouds were breaking here and there and stars shone, cold and icy in the darkness. Amaris and Pippin made their way to the riverbank, keeping low and away from Osgiliath’s northern wall. There were few lights visible. Those that were seemed to come from small braziers. In contrast, the city on the eastern bank was full of lights, fires burning everywhere, some large, some smaller, in arrogant defiance of the soldiers of Gondor manning the garrison on the western side of the river.

“Well, isn’t that pretty?” Amaris’s tone was full of irony. “It’ll be harder to get around unseen with all that light.” She sighed. “Nothing for it, though. We’re going to have to get in as quietly as possible. The problem is that the culvert is to the south of the city. That will be the best way in.”

“Culvert? Do you mean to say we’re going in through the sewer?” Pippin laughed. “Well, now won’t this be a glamorous tale?”

“Well, we’ll have to do it to be able to tell it. We’ll have to strike out to the south. We’ll be going with the current, which will make it easier, but it’s best to avoid being seen by either side. And I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what to do if we can’t find a boat.”

The river ran grey and slow. In places, Pippin noticed darker areas floating lazily along. Washed out brush and debris from upstream! He had an idea. “Let me ask you something, then, my lady. Can you float on a log?”

Amaris laughed with delight. “If I can’t, I shame my ancestors in Esgaroth. I spent many a summer day floating on logs in the lake. My mother claimed she didn’t know if I had scales or was made of wood!” Her smile faded, replaced with a look of sorrow. “That was very long ago.” She took a deep breath. “I like that notion, Pippin. There should be lots of deadwood caught up by the bridge. We have to stay out of sight, though.”

When they arrived at the river bank, they carefully picked their way along until they were in sight of the walls of the western city. They entered the shallows quietly, wading in up to their ankles until they no longer had the cover provided by the brush along the river bank. As they had feared, there were no boats to be found along the shore. Amaris signaled to Pippin that it was time to start swimming. Pippin suppressed a gasp as he waded in up to his chest and let the river lift him up. The water was very cold as it brought the melting snows from the mountains to the sea. The current was swift, but not terribly strong, and he allowed himself to float, adjusting his direction and pace as necessary. He tried to stay where he could at least touch bottom with his toes. Amaris was a bit further out, head bobbing, apparently doing the same thing.

Soon the arches of the bridge loomed before them. Amaris slipped underneath, then scrambled up onto the foundation. Pippin followed, but had a more difficult time finding hand and footholds. Amaris helped him up by grabbing the back of his cloak. They stood for a moment, panting and shivering.

“Over there,” Amaris pointed. A large log was jammed in a pile of brush about five feet away. “Let’s see if we can get it loose.”

Pippin nodded. He began pushing the log as Amaris cleared away the tangled deadwood.

“Don’t push too hard. I don’t want it to get away.” She stood in waist-high water, tossing sticks and debris downstream. Pippin felt the log shift and slide down into the water. “Hop on, Pippin!” He scrambled aboard.

Amaris guided the log out from under the bridge. Pippin lay face down and as flat as he could make himself. Suddenly, the log rocked wildly, then spun to the left, dunking him. He managed to hold on to the slippery bark and the log righted itself.

“Sorry!” Amaris was swimming beside him. “I thought I could get on, too, but both of us won’t fit. You stay there and be the rudder. I’m going to have to swim beside it and guide it. Here,” she handed him an oil-cloth bag, “this is for the book when we get it. It’s more waterproof than we are, but you’re a bit drier than I am right now, so you might as well keep it.” Pippin tucked it under his chest and inched forward a bit, trying for a better grip.

He could tell when the water was shallow enough for Amaris to stand because they made better progress when her feet were on the riverbed. It was still fairly slow going. He wondered how they would ever get back if they needed speed instead of stealth.

They slipped past the face of the eastern city, away from the lights and fires. Occasionally they would hear a voice cry out in a harsh language, cold and alien. The dark bank grew closer. After what seemed like hours, they finally reached the opposite side of the river. They pulled the log onto the bank and ducked under the willows. Amaris hugged herself, shivering, wet clothes clinging to her. Her boy’s disguise was failing miserably. “We’re going to have to get moving,” she said. “If for no other reason than to keep warm. We have to keep along the bank as best we can until we get to the culvert.”

“Look, I’m not as wet as you. Do you want my cloak for a bit?” Before Amaris could say anything, Pippin slipped it off and placed it around her shoulders. It was dripping nearly as much as Amaris, but she smiled gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Pippin. You’re very kind.”

Keeping as much under cover as possible, they crept along the river toward the southern edge of the occupied city.

“Paugh! What’s that smell?” Pippin had noticed the odor getting stronger the closer they got to the city.

“Our objective, presumably.” Amaris’ nose was wrinkled as well.

“One good thing – if we go through that, the orcs will never notice us. At least not by scent.” Pippin grinned.

[Beruthiel's cat]

They’d reached the city wall and had no choice but to wade back into the river. It came to Pippin’s knees and fortunately no farther. He had no desire to swim in the filth spreading slowly from the open culvert.

“Good! It’s big enough for you to stand in, Pippin, and I’ll only have to stoop a bit. It’s just terribly dark.”

“Do you know where we’re going? Where does this thing lead to, anyway?”

“The third tunnel to the left should be the armory.”

“Armory?” Pippin was alarmed. “Any more good news? The Haradrim ward room perhaps?”

“Well, it might be there. I don’t know how things are now that they’ve occupied the city. But it should be the best and closest place to the library.”

Pippin was skeptical. “What about the fourth tunnel?”

“That used to go to the garrison barracks. I don’t think we should chance going through there.”

“And the first two tunnels? Where do they go?”

“They cut under the city and go east and north. They don’t open for awhile.”

“And you know all this how? Are there maps?”

“Yes. I studied old plans of the city. It’s possible things have changed, though, or the drawings might be inaccurate. We’re going to have to trust our luck. And each other.” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

“Right.” He suddenly felt warmer.

Pippin entered the tunnel first, Amaris close behind. The water was very shallow, but foul, and caused the stones underfoot to be more slippery than they would be had the water been clear. A tunnel opened almost immediately on the left. Twenty feet later there was another opening and ten feet beyond that was the third. This tunnel was smaller and Pippin had to stoop. Amaris crouched even lower.

“What are we looking for?” Pippin whispered.

“A stone ladder leading to an access grate. I don’t know how far or on which side of the tunnel. I’ll check the right and you go along the left.”

Pippin nodded, but he knew Amaris couldn’t see him. They were in pitch darkness now and would have to rely on other senses besides sight. He could feel Amaris close behind him, groping along the wall, much as he was.

He felt a slight breeze and the air seemed clearer. He stopped and reached back, touching her shoulder. “I think I’ve found something.” He reached forward and felt an outcropping of rock. Stones stuck out at regular intervals, making a very steep stairway. “This is it! I’ll go on ahead.”

The hobbit heaved himself up onto the slippery rocks. Slimy liquid trickled down from above, making the handholds slippery, but he managed the climb with cat-like agility, reaching a grate set in the wall, very close to the room above. A small oil lamp burned in the far corner, and the room seemed empty aside from some tables and benches.

“I think it’s a dining hall.” Pippin fiddled with the iron grate, testing it. It moved slightly at the bottom as he wiggled it. “It’s a bit loose. But it’s going to take a bit of niggling to get it off.”

“Be careful!”

The bolts and bars at the bottom were fairly rusty, but those at the top were much less so. If he could squeeze through to the other side, he might be able to kick it free, then Amaris could get through.

“You’re going to need to hold the grate as far up and away from the wall as you can. I’m going to try to squeeze through.” He pushed his small pack through first, then he took off his shirt and slid it past the bars.

“I hope you don’t expect me to do that!” Amaris sounded a bit alarmed.

Pippin felt himself flush as he considered the possibility. He cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t need to if I can loosen it from the other side. You need move up a bit, right behind me. That’s right. Now, lift and pull the bottom of the grate away from the wall as hard as you can!”

Amaris did so, and the gap between the grate and the floor widened. Pippin dove at it like a rabbit through a hole. Head, shoulders and torso scraped through, but as he continued to scramble, his trouser-seat caught on a rusty bolt. Two good tugs, the sound of tearing cloth and he was free. The grate snapped back into place.

Pippin lay on the floor like a landed trout, listening to muffled hysteria coming from behind the wall.

“Pippin!” Amaris wheezed. “You can have your cloak back now.” A ball of cloth came sailing through the bars. “You’re going to need it.” More laughter.

A piece of fabric the size of Pippin’s hand hung from the offending iron bolt. He sat up and put his shirt back on. “Honestly! I have half a mind to leave you there amidst the offal. Don’t you know it isn’t nice to laugh at someone else’s misfortune?”

“At least you have an extra handkerchief!”

Pippin stood up and twisted around to survey the damage. He sighed. “At least I listened to my Mum when she told me to wear clean underwear every day.” He sat down on the floor again, facing the grate. “Now, Lady Amaris, if you don’t mind standing clear, I’m going to see if I can manage to kick this thing out so you don’t have to go through the humiliation I’ve just gone through. Notice, I’m being quite a gentleman about this. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I don’t know what to look for or where to look if I leave you there.”

“I think I’m clear,” Amaris stage-whispered. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Pippin kicked out with both feet. The grate gave slightly. The second time, it clattered down into the tunnel below.

Amaris’s head appeared at the opening. She pounced into the dining hall like a cat and rolled under a table, dragging Pippin with her. “You’d better hope nobody heard that!”

[Elf Girl]

Um, why not post it in the same thread? Keeping things compact is good, and we aren't even supposed to have more than one thread for any Mooter's work.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Thank you, Elf Girl. I'm kind of a newbie at all this, so how can I put this on the previous thread. Does the Mod have to do it??

HELP!

[Elf Girl]

I would just copy/paste the text into posts in the previous thread and let this one drift until someone closes it or it gets pushed off the first page.

[Earniel]

It's more organised (and handy) to keep all the chapters of a story in one thread but it isn't mandatory. Others have created separate threads for their chapters as well. But if you want, I can merge the two threads together. :)

[Beruthiel's cat]

Originally posted by Eärniel
It's more organised (and handy) to keep all the chapters of a story in one thread but it isn't mandatory. Others have created separate threads for their chapters as well. But if you want, I can merge the two threads together. :)

Please do merge them. I appreciate all the help. There are some protcols that I'm just unaware of or unfamiliar with as far as 'Mooting is concerned. Thank you!

(Nice sig, Earniel. I remember that song!)

[Earniel]

Merged.

Don't worry about the protocols, Beruthiel's cat. I made mistakes too when I just joined. You'll get the hang of it quick enough. :)

Nice sig, eh? Those lines always reminded me of Middle-earth somehow.

I like your story so far. It's a nice and interesting plot and your writing is easy to read. I can picture the surroundings and I like the dialog. I do wonder a bit why they would let a girl go with someone who was initially brought to Minas Tirith to be kept out of trouble on such a dangerous mission.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Originally posted by Eärniel
Merged.

I do wonder a bit why they would let a girl go with someone who was initially brought to Minas Tirith to be kept out of trouble on such a dangerous mission.

Thank you!

I know why Amaris was sent on the mission and there is a place earlier in the story where I should have explained it. I will make a point of explaining it later. And in the re-write I'll pop it in sooner. Good point. I can't think of everything, darn it!!! I must be human or something!! Your comments are appreciated!

[Beruthiel's cat]

Here's the last part of chapter three, just to take things to their "conclusion" (at least as far as the chapter goes...)

Enjoy and have a nice weekend!

____________________________

The sound of footsteps stopped by the door. “I still think we should move soon. The quicker we attack, the less likely we are to meet full-scale resistance.” The door opened, admitting two pairs of fine boots. “I tried to make the point to the Major, but he won’t listen. I’m merely a captain from a merchant family. He is a major from a noble family. If a noble had made the same suggestion, he’d go in an instant.”

The boots sat down on the bench at the table Pippin and Amaris were huddled beneath. Both lay motionless, not daring to breathe.

“Plus, you face another disadvantage.” The second officer spoke. “You are from the northern lands. Lands that are not part of the Alliance. He doesn’t trust you. If you are a traitor to your own people, what is to say that you will be loyal to the Dark Lord?”

The first officer spat. “I owe Esgaroth nothing! I was cast out by the word of a child! A very precocious, evil child.” He slammed his flagon down on the table, causing Pippin to jump and nearly cry out. But Amaris began curling up on her side, eyes wide and distant.

“Damnation! It smells like filth in here again.” The second officer sniffed. “Every time those stinking orcs work the forge, the drains back up. Let’s go out for some fresher air!” He stood up again and went to the door, the other man following closely. The door slammed behind them.

Pippin exhaled. “Whew! That was too close for my liking.” Amaris still lay, stiff and unmoving, staring into space. “Amaris? Are you all right?” He touched her elbow gently.

She sat up, pulling out her dagger. “Don’t you touch me!” she hissed. “Don’t you dare touch me!” She pointed the knife at him. “I will kill you if you try, you maggot! Get away from me, Gath!”

Pippin scrambled from beneath the table. “Amaris, what’s the matter? I’m not going to hurt you!” She stared wildly at him, with no spark of recognition in her eyes. “Amaris! It’s me. It’s Pippin! Are you all right?”

The young woman blinked and took several deep breaths. She looked at Pippin and gasped. The dagger clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry!” She brought her hands up to her face. “Oh, I’m so very sorry!” She collapsed to the floor in silent sobs.

The hobbit was at a complete loss. What should he do? Finally, he knelt down beside her.
“It’s all right, Amaris,” he whispered. “It’s going to be all right. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He tentatively touched her shoulder. “I’ll help you in any way I can.” He stroked her hair as if she were a child recovering from a bad dream.

She reached up and touched his hand, then closed her own around it. She looked at him through tears, then sat up slowly. She put her arms around him and they clung to each other.

She finally stopped crying and pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Pippin. I’ll be all right now.”

He nodded and attempted an encouraging smile. She had seemed so confident up to this point. So bright and courageous. He had a hundred questions tumbling around in his mind, all needing to be asked, but he kept silent as a different thought came to him – the truth of Gandalf’s words to him in Minas Tirith, just after he had met her:

“My dear boy . . I have seen that look before. You lost your heart to her the moment you laid eyes on her.”

‘And now what, Peregrin Took?’ he asked himself. ‘Now what?’

[Beruthiel's cat]

For those of you wondering if a "gal could go for a hobbit guy..." (and you know who you are...) I see Pippin as a very, sweet, sensitive soul...albeit a short one :D You ladies out there need no further explanation...!

[Rosie Gamgee]

Oh, certainly not far-fetched at all. If it hadn't been for that Long Cleave jewel, I wouldn't have minded taking her place ;). But, then, I wouldn't like to live with a constant crick in the neck from dwelling in a hobbit-sized hobbit hole. :D :D

Very good so far. Not trying to be nit-picky or anything, but just one thing jumped out at me- a few posts ago when Amaris hand's Pip the oil-cloth sack, and you said he 'tucked it under his chest'. I know what you meant, but 'under'? 'Under his chest' doesn't sound exactly logical. Try 'against his chest', or 'under his shirt'. Would sound better, I think. Again, sorry about being so nit-picky. Very cool though, can't wait for more!!

[Beruthiel's cat]

Originally posted by Rosie Gamgee
Oh, certainly not far-fetched at all. If it hadn't been for that Long Cleave jewel, I wouldn't have minded taking her place ;). But, then, I wouldn't like to live with a constant crick in the neck from dwelling in a hobbit-sized hobbit hole. :D :D

Very good so far. Not trying to be nit-picky or anything, but just one thing jumped out at me- a few posts ago when Amaris hand's Pip the oil-cloth sack, and you said he 'tucked it under his chest'. I know what you meant, but 'under'? 'Under his chest' doesn't sound exactly logical. Try 'against his chest', or 'under his shirt'. Would sound better, I think. Again, sorry about being so nit-picky. Very cool though, can't wait for more!!

Oh, that Diamond girl!! I understand what you mean completely, Rosie!!

As far as the oil-cloth bag, I thought it was a given that Pip was lying face-down on the log. Since I've decided to do some minor revisions on what I've already written, I'll bear that in mind when I get to that part. Thanks!