Fodder, part two
Jan. 12th, 2002 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveNo, really. If I'd written it, this is what the story would have looked like.
They were crossing the plains, headed towards the Weathertop. Strider was astonished to discover that, despite the hobbits' insistence on having six meals a day, and indulging in vigorous sex each night and morning, they were keeping pace with him and the schedule he'd set. He didn't want to admit that he was going a bit faster than he might have, if only to get to Rivendell -- and Arwyn. *Listening* to the hobbits morning and evening was driving him buggy.
Suddenly he turned, alerted by some sixth sense, and saw a rider, dressed in black, behind them, on horseback. It was gaining fast. "Hurry!" he called to the hobbits, and turned to run, heading for the slight shelter of rocks, some ways ahead. It might not offer any real protection, but it would give them something to put at their backs while they fought the rider off.
The hobbits, and Bill the pony, broke into a run. Strider could only hope they would make it in time, and risked glancing over his shoulder to check the rider's progress against their own.
They'd not quite reached the rocks, when he heard the thundering of hooves, and spun around to run for the rear of their trail. "Keep going!" he shouted at them, drawing his sword to meet the rider.
The hobbits stopped -- the pony kept going, at Sam's slap to its hindquarters -- and gathered in a semi-circle. Strider had no time to yell that he'd meant for them to *keep going*, when he'd said "keep going", as the rider was almost upon them.
The four hobbits stooped down to the ground, but Strider didn't dare look to see what the hell they were up to. Then they stood, and, all together, let fly with stones they'd picked up.
Two hit the horse in the head, and two hit the rider in the head. The rider flew back, and the horse screamed, rearing. The rider tumbled off, and the hobbits ran forward. The horse ran a few yards away, then stopped and stood, facing them.
After a second, Strider ran after the hobbits. The Black Rider was gaining his feet, and Strider held out his sword. "Get behind me!" he shouted, and again the hobbits seemed to have no idea what he meant by that. Merry and Sam leapt towards the rider and Frodo and Pippin ducked down, again, and Strider could see stones in their hands.
Strider strode forward, realising he was going to have to force himself between them, in order to get the hobbits to safety. Merry and Sam hit the rider, Merry at his legs and Sam at his waist, and the Ringwraith bent over to pluck them off its robes. Strider raised his sword, then halted as Frodo and Pippin hit the Ringwraith in the head with four stones.
It staggered, and Merry fell to the ground. As he got to his feet, he said, "What's *under* there?" He pointed at the long, black cloak.
"The Ringwraiths are shadows of the nine kings!" Strider yelled, not quite sure why he was explaining this *now*. "They are neither alive, nor dead. They have no form but their twisted spirits, bent to the power of the One Ring and their Master who uses it."
"Really?" Sam asked, sounding surprised. He grabbed the edges of the cloak, and leapt backwards. The cloak came off in his hands, and left...nothing. The four hobbits stared at the cloak. Strider stared at the air where the cloak had been.
There was nothing there.
"You mean, we've been being chased by a black robe on a horse?" Merry asked, dumbfounded.
"No! No, the Ringwraith--" Strider began. He looked around. It had to be *somewhere*. Now it was obviously invisible, and would be impossible to fight. He turned around in a circle, wondering where it might have floated to. The hobbits were shaking out the cloak, and looking it over.
"Nice material," Frodo commented.
"Yeah. Wonder who made it? D'you think the orcs do their own weaving?" Pippin asked.
"We should ask Gandalf, when we find him. He'll know. He knows everything," Sam said with certainty.
Strider couldn't find any sign of the Ringwraith. It wasn't hitting anyone, it wasn't doing nasty, bodiless evil Ringwraith things.
It didn't seem to be anywhere.
The horse was grazing, quietly.
"Strider? Hey, d'you think we can take the horse? We'll get to Rivendell much faster if we can swap out riding," Sam called over.
"What?" Strider spun back to face the hobbits. "No, you can't take the horse! Hobbits can't ride horses. You can only ride ponies. Besides -- evil horse! It belonged to a Ringwraith, remember?"
"Who said we couldn't ride horses?" Frodo asked. "All we need is a ladder to get on their back -- you'd do for that, Strider."
"Yeah, and Bill belonged to that mean ole human guy. See how that turned out? He found us those truffles, yesterday." Sam said, and the other hobbits nodded, smiling at the memory.
All right, so the truffles had been good --but Strider was pretty sure it was pigs, who were supposed to sniff them out.
"I've an idea," Frodo was saying, and the hobbits were once again ignoring Strider. "I'll put the ring on for a bit, and attract a couple more Riders. We'll clobber them, take their horses, and all of us can ride to Rivendell."
The hobbits loved the idea. Strider closed his eyes.
Gandalf was going to kill him.
They were crossing the plains, headed towards the Weathertop. Strider was astonished to discover that, despite the hobbits' insistence on having six meals a day, and indulging in vigorous sex each night and morning, they were keeping pace with him and the schedule he'd set. He didn't want to admit that he was going a bit faster than he might have, if only to get to Rivendell -- and Arwyn. *Listening* to the hobbits morning and evening was driving him buggy.
Suddenly he turned, alerted by some sixth sense, and saw a rider, dressed in black, behind them, on horseback. It was gaining fast. "Hurry!" he called to the hobbits, and turned to run, heading for the slight shelter of rocks, some ways ahead. It might not offer any real protection, but it would give them something to put at their backs while they fought the rider off.
The hobbits, and Bill the pony, broke into a run. Strider could only hope they would make it in time, and risked glancing over his shoulder to check the rider's progress against their own.
They'd not quite reached the rocks, when he heard the thundering of hooves, and spun around to run for the rear of their trail. "Keep going!" he shouted at them, drawing his sword to meet the rider.
The hobbits stopped -- the pony kept going, at Sam's slap to its hindquarters -- and gathered in a semi-circle. Strider had no time to yell that he'd meant for them to *keep going*, when he'd said "keep going", as the rider was almost upon them.
The four hobbits stooped down to the ground, but Strider didn't dare look to see what the hell they were up to. Then they stood, and, all together, let fly with stones they'd picked up.
Two hit the horse in the head, and two hit the rider in the head. The rider flew back, and the horse screamed, rearing. The rider tumbled off, and the hobbits ran forward. The horse ran a few yards away, then stopped and stood, facing them.
After a second, Strider ran after the hobbits. The Black Rider was gaining his feet, and Strider held out his sword. "Get behind me!" he shouted, and again the hobbits seemed to have no idea what he meant by that. Merry and Sam leapt towards the rider and Frodo and Pippin ducked down, again, and Strider could see stones in their hands.
Strider strode forward, realising he was going to have to force himself between them, in order to get the hobbits to safety. Merry and Sam hit the rider, Merry at his legs and Sam at his waist, and the Ringwraith bent over to pluck them off its robes. Strider raised his sword, then halted as Frodo and Pippin hit the Ringwraith in the head with four stones.
It staggered, and Merry fell to the ground. As he got to his feet, he said, "What's *under* there?" He pointed at the long, black cloak.
"The Ringwraiths are shadows of the nine kings!" Strider yelled, not quite sure why he was explaining this *now*. "They are neither alive, nor dead. They have no form but their twisted spirits, bent to the power of the One Ring and their Master who uses it."
"Really?" Sam asked, sounding surprised. He grabbed the edges of the cloak, and leapt backwards. The cloak came off in his hands, and left...nothing. The four hobbits stared at the cloak. Strider stared at the air where the cloak had been.
There was nothing there.
"You mean, we've been being chased by a black robe on a horse?" Merry asked, dumbfounded.
"No! No, the Ringwraith--" Strider began. He looked around. It had to be *somewhere*. Now it was obviously invisible, and would be impossible to fight. He turned around in a circle, wondering where it might have floated to. The hobbits were shaking out the cloak, and looking it over.
"Nice material," Frodo commented.
"Yeah. Wonder who made it? D'you think the orcs do their own weaving?" Pippin asked.
"We should ask Gandalf, when we find him. He'll know. He knows everything," Sam said with certainty.
Strider couldn't find any sign of the Ringwraith. It wasn't hitting anyone, it wasn't doing nasty, bodiless evil Ringwraith things.
It didn't seem to be anywhere.
The horse was grazing, quietly.
"Strider? Hey, d'you think we can take the horse? We'll get to Rivendell much faster if we can swap out riding," Sam called over.
"What?" Strider spun back to face the hobbits. "No, you can't take the horse! Hobbits can't ride horses. You can only ride ponies. Besides -- evil horse! It belonged to a Ringwraith, remember?"
"Who said we couldn't ride horses?" Frodo asked. "All we need is a ladder to get on their back -- you'd do for that, Strider."
"Yeah, and Bill belonged to that mean ole human guy. See how that turned out? He found us those truffles, yesterday." Sam said, and the other hobbits nodded, smiling at the memory.
All right, so the truffles had been good --but Strider was pretty sure it was pigs, who were supposed to sniff them out.
"I've an idea," Frodo was saying, and the hobbits were once again ignoring Strider. "I'll put the ring on for a bit, and attract a couple more Riders. We'll clobber them, take their horses, and all of us can ride to Rivendell."
The hobbits loved the idea. Strider closed his eyes.
Gandalf was going to kill him.