Title: The Dragon and the Ring
Author: Maeglin Yedi ([email protected])
Website: http://forever-rebel.net/maeglinyedi/
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The Dragon and the Ring 2
By Maeglin Yedi
“What’s taking Strider so long?” Pippin asked a bit impatient and Sam glared at him.
“Be still, Pip,” he whispered to his friend. “Strider told us not to make a noise.”
Pippin nodded his head and looked at Frodo, who was staring into the darkness around them nervously.
Suddenly they heard footsteps and they all sat up right, their eyes fixed on the trees around them.
A dark figure, which certainly wasn’t Strider, made his way through the trees and Frodo felt his heart miss a few beats. It was a tall figure, dressed in a long black cloak. A Ringwraith!
Sam thought the same thing and jumped onto his feet, dragging Frodo with him as he tried to get his master and friend to safety.
“Sam, please let Frodo go.” They heard a familiar voice and they saw the Ranger standing besides the dark figure. Now that the stranger was standing closer to the campfire they saw his face and sighed relieved when they realized he wasn’t a Ringwraith.
Sam let go of Frodo and smiled apologetic. Frodo just nodded and sat back down next to Merry and Pippin who were staring at the stranger with their mouths opened.
“Merry, do you think he’s an Elf?” Pippin whispered to his friend and Merry nodded without saying anything, too stunned by the appearance of the stranger who was looking at them.
“Greetings, Periannath,” the man said to them and smiled. “My name is Beliar and yes, you are correct. I am an Elf.”
Pippin blushed and lowered his gaze. Beliar just grinned.
“Your friend the Ranger was kind enough to invite me to join you around the campfire,” he explained and slowly he sat down on the other site of the fire, facing the Hobbits. Sam was almost sitting in Frodo’s lap, desperately trying to protect his friend from whatever bad things perhaps could happen. He still didn’t fully trust Strider and now suddenly an Elf showed up in the middle of the night and was invited to join them. Sam didn’t trust it one single bit.
While Beliar sat down he had moved his cloak a little and Aragorn noticed a well-used sword hanging from the Elf’s side. While the Ranger sat down next to the Hobbits and poked into the fire with a stick he kept looking at the sword. It looked different than the normal Elven swords he knew. Different yet familiar.
And suddenly he saw it. Inscriptions on the sheath of the sword. Symbols from Mordor and more specifically, symbols from Barad-dûr.
Before he could speak or get up to his feet Beliar spoke to him.
“I like to battle my enemies with their own weapons,” he said in a soft voice and with a wicked smile around his lips. Aragorn looked at him, realizing that Beliar had caught him staring at his sword. The Ranger nodded and decided not to ask anything else about the weapon of Mordor hanging from the Elf’s side. But he also decided that he was going to keep watch the whole night and wouldn’t allow himself any minute of sleep. He didn’t trust the Elf at all.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as Aragorn kept a watchful eye on the Elf and Beliar studied the Hobbits. It was easy for him to determine which Hobbit carried the Ring. It was the one with dark brown curls and clear blue eyes that looked at him suspiciously. Beliar could sense the power of the Ring on that Hobbit. He could see it in his eyes and smell it around him. And it amazed Beliar that this innocent creature showed such resilience to the Power of the One Ring. He could hear the Ring call to him. Tell him about what greatness he could achieve if he would only take the Ring, use the Ring. And yet the Bearer seemed completely oblivious to the voice of what he carried.
Even though the thought of using the Ring for himself was tempting, it was not hard for Beliar to refuse the offers the Ring made to him. He had no intention of using the Ring or returning it to its one true master. Beliar had other plans and his determination to go through with those made it easy for him to ignore the soft voice trying to tempt him.
“Would you like something to eat,” Pippin asked the Elf and Beliar looked at him slightly surprised.
“I am quite hungry, so I’ll gratefully accept any food you have to offer me,” he said to the Hobbit with a polite smile and Pippin took an empty plate and put some sausages and fried tomatoes on it. He stood up and walked over to the Elf, keeping a safe distance when he handed him the plate.
“I thank you, Peredhil,” Beliar said as he took the plate from Pippin. He smiled at the Hobbit again and Pippin grinned shyly in return.
“May I ask what your name is?” Beliar asked after taking a bite out of a sausage and swallowing it.
Pippin, who had returned to his spot between his friends nodded and started introducing everyone.
“I’m Pippin, that’s Merry, Sam and Frodo. And that tall one over there is Strider,” he said and pointed at Aragorn who was still mindlessly stirring the fire with a stick.
“Saesa omentien lle,” Beliar said and Pippin looked confused. Aragorn chuckled and translated.
“Beliar said that it is a pleasure meeting you,” he explained to Pippin and the Hobbit looked relieved.
“Pleasure meeting you too. But please, speak in common tongue, so I won’t have to worry about you saying humiliating things about us to Strider,” Pippin said and Aragorn laughed.
Beliar joined him. And couldn’t resist.
“I will address you in common tongue from now on, ai ‘mithe,” he told Pippin and Aragorn laughed even louder.
Pippin frowned and Beliar smiled at him wickedly.
Merry leaned over to Aragorn and whispered to him: “What did he call Pippin?”
Aragorn leaned back and answered: “Mouse.”
Merry laughed and Pippin looked confused.
“What?” he asked impatiently and Merry just shook his head.
“Nothing humiliating, Pip. Just a fact,” he told his friend and Pippin shook his head. Sam and Frodo were giggling and Aragorn laughed.
Beliar finished his food with an amused grin on his face and had to admit to himself that he was actually enjoying this. The Hobbits didn’t seem to be such offensive creatures and the Ranger did have a sense of humor. Perhaps the days to come when he would join them on their journey wouldn’t be that annoying.
“I suggest you all take some rest,” Aragorn told the Hobbits and Merry yawned widely at the idea of getting some sleep. They were all tired from the distances they had traveled over the past few days and could use some rest.
Aragorn looked at Beliar.
“You can get some rest as well. I will keep watch,” he told the Elf and Beliar smiled gratefully.
“I have to admit that I am a little worn out so I’ll accept your offer and rest. Though please do not hesitate to wake me when you could use my assistance,” he told the Ranger and Aragorn nodded.
The Hobbits pulled out their bedrolls and blankets and made themselves comfortable around the campfire.
Beliar got up to his feet and sat down against a tree. He pulled his cloak around him and reached for the hood and covered his head.
“Quel esta,” he said and lowered his head so that his whole body was now covered with his black cloak and his face was no longer visible to the others.
“What did he say?” Pippin asked worriedly, afraid that the Elf might have tried to offend him, again.
“He told you to rest well,” Aragorn said softly as he was standing in front of a tree, keeping a careful watch at their surroundings.
“Oh, all right. Rest well,” Pippin said and pulled the blanket up to his chin. He felt the comforting bodies of his friends around him and it didn’t take long for the Hobbits to drift off to sleep.
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They had walked all day through the wild and the Hobbits were trying their best to keep up with the quick pace of Strider and Beliar.
The Ranger and the Elf both walked a little ahead of the Hobbits and spoke little. They took the time they spent together to study the other.
Aragorn noticed that Beliar moved in the way all Elves moved: gracefully, swift and silent. And still his appearance confused him. He had never seen an Elf before with hair that black or skin that pale. And the color of Beliar’s eyes also made Aragorn wonder about what kind of Elf he really was. Beliar had deep brown eyes with traces of green in it. A color Aragorn had never seen before in the eyes of an Elf. All Elves he knew had either blue of green eyes. Not deep brown. Aragorn decided that he would question Beliar about his life when they would rest for the night.
Beliar looked at the Ranger next to him again and frowned. This man behaved like no man he had ever met before. Strider moved almost with Elven grace and used his eyes and ears in an Elven manner. And still he was a man. Beliar knew that Rangers were men that were specifically skilled in fighting and surviving in the wild but he had never seen a Ranger act the way Strider did. He really was very Elvish in his behavior. Beliar decided that he would question Strider about his life when they would rest for the night.
Just as the sun began to set they reached a hill with ruins on top of them.
“The Weather top,” Aragorn told the Hobbits and they made their way up the hill to rest in the shadows of the old ruins.
The Hobbits sat down against the walls and sighed as they finally got some rest. They had traveled a huge distance that day and the Halflings felt every muscle in their bodies ache.
Aragorn lifted a package from Bill’s back and walked over to the Hobbits. He opened it and took out four small swords.
“Use these to defend yourselves,” he told the little ones as he handed them each a sword. The Hobbits looked a bit puzzled but decided that it would be a safe idea that they now had weapons of their own to protect themselves from the foes that were after them. Not that they knew a whole lot about battling with a sword, but the idea itself was comforting.
“I want to take a look around. Will you join me, Beliar?” Aragorn asked the Elf and Beliar nodded. He followed Aragorn down the hill into the darkness that had swallowed the land around them.
When they were walking side by side at the foot of the hill Aragorn looked at Beliar.
“I would like you to tell me more about yourself, Beliar,” Aragorn told him and Beliar smirked.
“What is it that you want to know about me, Strider? I could tell you a lot of things that surely wouldn’t interest you and I don’t like wasting my time on meaningless words,” the Elf said and Aragorn chuckled.
“Why don’t you tell me who you really are? You are an Elf, but not an Elf from the woods I know. Where do you come from?” he asked and Beliar shook his head.
“I do not come from the lands of the Elves of this world, but it is hard to explain who I really am,” he said and Aragorn looked at him.
“Try me,” he told the Elf and stopped walking. Beliar stopped next to him and pursed his lips for a second.
“It will be easier for me to explain who I am when we reach Imladris. Lord Elrond will be able to explain everything you need to know,” he told the Ranger and Aragorn frowned.
“You know Lord Elrond?” he asked surprised and Beliar laughed for a moment.
“Yes, well, let’s say that Elrond and myself have... met before,” he said and Aragorn shrugged.
“But I would like to know how it is that you speak my language, Ranger,” Beliar asked him and Aragorn grinned.
“It will be easier for me to explain why I know your language when we reach Imladris,” he told Beliar and the Elf laughed loudly, realizing that the Ranger used his own words against him.
“Very well, Strider. I suggest we let this conversation rest and continue it when we reach Imladris,” he said and Aragorn nodded.
“A good idea, Beliar. A very good idea.”
They continued their walk around the hill and stopped every so often to listen to sounds they heard in the darkness around them.
Suddenly they heard a loud shriek from behind them and the looked at each other briefly. Both of them knew who had made that sound. The Nazgûl.
The Ranger and the Elf drew their swords and ran up the mountain as fast as they could. More shrieks sounded through the darkness and they made their way towards the ruins.
The Nazgûl had knocked out Sam, Merry and Pippin and were now gathered around something neither the Ranger nor the Elf could see.
“Elendil!” Aragorn cried out as he launched himself at the five Dark Riders.
“Gorgorath!” Beliar shouted and attacked the first Ringwraith he could find. The Nazgûl turned around and seemed to hesitate for a moment when they saw Beliar with his sword drawn, striking at them.
Both Aragorn and Beliar used that brief moment of hesitation to strike into the Dark Riders and managed to drive them away from whatever it was that they were surrounding.
The Nazgûl fought back but still hesitated to strike out at Beliar. The Elf used all his strength and his skills and together with the Ranger he drove the Dark Riders away.
Suddenly they heard a cry of pain behind them and as the last Nazgûl fled they turned around and saw Sam kneeling down besides Frodo.
“Strider!” Sam yelled and the Ranger quickly made his way over to the two Hobbits. Frodo’s face was caught in a grimace and squirms of pain escaped his lips.
“A Nazgûl blade his wounded him,” Aragorn told Sam as he reached for the blade that was still lying besides Frodo.
“This is a wound I cannot heal,” he sighed and looked at Beliar, who was still standing in the middle of the ruins and sheathed his sword.
Beliar felt confused. He knew how to cure a wound made by a Nazgûl blade but the question for him was: did he want to cure the wound? Did he want to cure this Hobbit?
The only thing that mattered for Beliar was the Ring, not its Bearer. One of the other Hobbits could easily take over the task of bearing the Ring, so why would he waste his knowledge or energy on this meaningless Halfling?
He slowly shook his head and Aragorn nodded.
“We must get Frodo to Imladris as quick as possible. Only Lord Elrond will know how to treat Frodo,” he told Sam and carefully lifted the wounded Hobbit into his arms.
“We will leave immediately, let the darkness provide us some cover from the Ringwraiths,” he told the Hobbits and Merry let out a small sigh in disappointment. He was tired. They were all tired.
“The Dark Riders are still our there, Meriadoc. Would you rather stay here and face their swords again?” Aragorn asked him and Merry shook his head. No, of course he didn’t want that. He wanted Frodo to be safe. He wanted all of them to be safe, but somehow his body wasn’t as eager to continue their journey as his mind was.
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Periannath: Hobbits
Peredhil: Halfling
Gorgorath: Terror