Frolijah – Part 3
The Road goes ever on and on, but Frolijah would rather not!
“Wake up, hobbits,” Frolijah cried, “it’s a beautiful morning.” I groaned in response, but soon enough we were all up anyway.
I was impressed with Frolijah. Though he didn’t know it, the actor was already falling into his “Frodo” role. He even walked off a little way into the wood.
After breakfast, we started climbing again. It wasn’t so bad now that I had gotten used to walking. There was only one problem: I had a feeling it was going to be a hot and dry day. I hate heat. I would probably live on the Misty Mountains given half a chance!
“The road goes on forever,” said Pippin after a few hours; “but I cannot without a rest. It’s high time for lunch.”
Frolijah elbowed me, and hissed into my ear: “Do I sing it now?”
“In a moment,” I replied, “but don’t sing – just say it slowly. After Sam asks about elves.”
“What are you two whispering about over there?” Pippin demanded, “Come on, tell Sam and me.”
“We were speaking of the elves,” I answered, elbowing Frolijah into silence. He had been about to start singing, despite the fact that I had told him to just say it. He gave me A Look.
“Do elves live in those woods?” Sam asked, meaning the ones we had nearly reached. The woods, not the elves.
“Not that I ever heard,” said Pippin. Frolijah was silent, no doubt trying to remember the verse. Finally he spoke, aloud, but as if trying to remember a long lost memory.
“The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,”
Frolijah gave me a dirty look at this, but continued anyway.
“Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet,
And whither then? I cannot say.”
“It sounds like a bit of old Mr. Bilbo’s rhyming,” said Pippin, “or is it one of your imitations? It does not sound entirely encouraging.”
“I don’t know,” answered Frolijah. “But I thought it might be important somehow.” Under his breath, he added so that only I could hear: “And to prevent any further bruises.”
We walked a bit further after some lunch. “I can hear a pony or horse coming ont he road behind,” said Sam. We all turned back to look.
“I wonder if that’s Gandalf coming,” Frolijah said. Then he blinked as realization dawned on him. “Get off the road! Quick!” Sam and Pippin stared at him
I had the strangest feeling – a desire to hide from view. “I don’t think that’s Gandalf,” I said. “In any case I don’t want to be seen. In any case, if it is him, we can give the wizard a surprise for being so late. Come on.”
Frolijah, Sam, and Pippin all ran for a little hollow – that was much less obvious than the one in the movie – but I tarried for a moment. I stared down the road, thinking: This is the part with the Black Riders. Get off the road! Fool, why do I want to stay? Tolkien alarms went off in my head. It’s the Ring. Go! I scampered after the others just in time.
The Rider came and went. I held my breath. Yes! Peter Jackson was wrong! I could kiss Frolijah – the bugs didn’t come slithering out! But somehow, I think I wouldn’t have noticed if they had. Why was my desire for the Ring so strong already? I was a Tolkien fan; I should be able to resist it! There had to be some way to make Frolijah take it back.
I drew my attention back to the hobbits.
“I don’t know about the Black Rider, and I’m trying not to guess!” Frolijah was saying. “Personally, I would rather not know.”
“All right cousin Frodo, don’t guess! Keep your secrets,” Pippin said. “Come on, let’s go.”
Frolijah went to walk next to me. “Alice,” he said, “this is all your fault. I was happy, okay? I mean, the movie was a big hit . . .”
Back on Earth, the really Frodo Baggins – also known as Elijodo – was sitting in a counselor’s office. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said slowly for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m not this Elijah Wood you keep speaking of. I’m Mr. B- Underhill!”
“Underhill? Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Wood.”
“I’m not Mr. Wood!”
“Do you know what’s wrong with him, doctor?” Asked one of the aids.
“It seems he’s over played his role. I’m going to give him some medicine, but I want you to take care of him, Lea.” He answered the aid, “This is the worst case I’ve ever seen. Take him to the car.”
“The car? Was that the nosy wagon? I am not going back in that thing!” Elijodo said indignantly. “What is this hideous place, so filled with pollution and tall building? Surely it’s nothing like I imagined Gondor. What do you call this place?”
“New York. You know that.”
“How did I get here? Where’s Sam?” Elijodo grew desperate, his fingers reached to his pocket to grab the ring. Elijodo relaxed, feeling the heavy gold band. Still, it felt strange – like it was not the right one. Elijodo shook his head in confusion. Of course it was the One Ring. What else could it be?
Lea pushed him up. Finally, that’s when Elijodo noticed the other thing that had been bothering him: why was the ground so far away?
First, to my dear Posters: please put this in the humour section with Part 1, splitting them up is really confusing.
Second: Thanks for reading my story everyone! Don’t worry, everything will turn out . . . okay, strangely. But I’ll stay as close to Tolkien as I can with still mocking Peter Jackson and Elijah Wood! Enjoy. (And please comment!)
Oh, and about the body guards: he might have hired those two because of the reporter from the Falling Leaf. Who knows.
One last thing: I did send Part 1 to Elijah Wood, but haven’t gotten an answer.