Frolijah – Part 4
The elves save Frolijah from snakes- I mean the Nazgul
The shadows of the trees were long and thin on the grass. I insisted that we stayed a “stone’s throw” to the side of the road. Pippin agreed readily, remembering the Black Rider, but it took a lot of convincing by Sam to get Frolijah to come with us. I finally understood why; the undergrowth here was thick and unpleasant, and it started to darken quickly.
After a time of pushing our way through the brush, (and Frolijah’s grumbles) we came upon a rotten old tree, all hollowed out. “Let’s take a rest here,” said Pippin, “before going on.”
Frolijah looked at the tree with fear in his eyes. “What if snakes live in there?”
“If they do,” answered Sam, “I don’t think they are likely to hurt us. We’re in the Shire, and there’s no harm here. Come on, Mr. Frodo.”
“I like snakes,” I said, stoutly. “And I’m certain you don’t mind them. Don’t be paranoid Mr. Frodo, they won’t get you!” Okay, okay, I’ll admit I was starting to get a bit nasty, but the guy was getting on my nerves.
“Shut up, Alice. I’m tired of playing your game,” Frolijah stamped his foot, looking rather like a spoiled child. “I am not going in that old rotting thing. It’s gross.”
“And you’re afraid are you? Well you’re going to get a lot more – ”
“I told you I’m not taking that thing,” Frolijah snapped, “let me be!”
“Coward,” I mocked him. “Afraid of an old tree? What kind of hobbit are you?”
“I’m not a – ” Frolijah stopped suddenly, noticing that Sam and Pippin were watching him. He changed what he was going to say, and finished in a lower voice: “I’m not a coward, but if anything happens . . .” He let it lie there. By that time the other hobbits were rested, if curious, and ready to go again. I had a feeling I had made an enemy of Frolijah. At least Sam and Pippin had enough sense to keep quiet.
At least, that is, about Frolijah’s and my little spurt. So, instead, they began to sing a song composed by Bilbo to a tune as old as the hills – which Frolijah and I quickly picked up, and began to hum along to.
Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
…….Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
…….Let them pass! Let them pass!
…….Hill and water under sky,
…….Pass them by! Pass them by!
And so on and so forth until the song ended. “And now to bed! And now to bed!” sang Pippin in a high voice.
“Shut up!” said Frolijah. “I think I hear hooves again.” We all stopped short and ran further from the road.
“Let’s not go too far,” I said in alarm, “I don’t want it to see us if it is one of those Riders.”
“Very well!” said Pippin. “But don’t forget the sniffing.” We all crouched down.
Frolijah, like the fool he was, peeked his head out to watch for the Black Riders, and to see if it really was one. I may have imagined it; I could have sworn he was muttering to himself: “This is not the way it happened in the movie!”
A great desire came over me then, to put on the Ring. Don’t do it! Remember the books! But even the memory of the trilogy seemed to fade from my mind at that moment. It’s the Nazgul, fool! Yet already, I felt my hand groping toward my pocket.
But at that moment, clear voices rose and rang out. “Elves!” exclaimed Sam. “It’s elves, sir!” He pulled excitedly at Frolijah’s sleeve.
“Yes,” said Frolijah. “I suppose they are. After all, they would come around these parts. One can meet them around here. I suppose that’s what drew the Black Rider away – he went as soon as the singing started.”
“Yes, but what about the Elves?” said Sam, to excited to trouble about the rider. “Can’t we go and see them?”
“Use your ears,” replied Frolijah, though not as sharply as his words would indicate. “They are coming closer!”
The Elves approached; Frolijah became nervous. This had definitely not been in the movie. Well, in the deleted scenes, he saw them. But meet elves? That wasn’t supposed to happen until Arwen came to Weathertop! Wait . . .
The Elves passed us until the last one, who turned and looked towards the hobbits and laughed. “Hail, Frodo!” he cried. “You are abroad late. Or are you perhaps lost?” Then he called aloud to the others, and all the company stopped and gathered around amazing at the hobbits presence, and oblivious to Frolijah’s protests. “Why are you out?”
“We have been followed,” said Pippin quickly, hopeful to stop any further of Frolijah’s ridiculous words and movements of earlier that evening. “By Black Riders, do you know of them?”
Gildor did not answer immediately to this, but spoke to the other Elves in their own tongue. “We will not speak of this here,” said he at last, “you had best come with us.”
“Thank you,” I answered, “Elen sila lúmenn’ omentielvo, a star shines on the hour of our meeting,” I added in my version and pronunciation of high Elvish. Thank you Tolkien!
“Here is a scholar! A student of Bilbo perhaps?” said Gildor, “I name you Elf-friend!” He bowed to me. Frolijah turned a little green, before moving to a pale shade of white.
“What is this all about? We weren’t supposed to meet them,” said Frolijah in my ear after we had walked a bit. “What are you doing? You’re messing up the story!”
“Oh pleeeze, haven’t you read any of the book?”
“A . . . little. But I don’t remember this.” He groaned, and swayed slightly to the side. A female elf caught him and helped him along. Frolijah looked up into her lovely face and blushed. “Hey, baby! What’s up?”
I turned red in embarrassment for him, and hid my face in my hands. Please, God, no! “Up?” she asked, confused. “I don’t know what you mean. The stars and moon, I suppose; the sky,” Help.
“No,” he continued, not in the least put out. “Like, how’s it going? Er – how are you?”
“Oh!” she answered, understanding his slang. “I am fine, master hobbit.” She put him very firmly back on his feet, and strayed a little way off. Frolijah followed her, determined.
He was out of earshot quickly, but I heard a few last words: “Hey, baby, what’s your name?”
Elijodo sat on a couch – his – staring at his hands, and the gold ring in them. He did not have any desire to put it on. Sighing heavily, the former hobbit got up to pace again. Lea came out from a back room.
“You know, you really should get some rest.” She said softly, coming up behind him.
“No, no! I need to find out where I am!” he answered, desperately. “The last thing I remember, I was in the Shire!”
“You’re just suffering from a little anxiety.” Lea smiled kindly, “I know! How about we watch the movie, maybe then you can remember!”
“Never mind, I’ll show you.” She went to the T.V. and took a set of three videos from the top. “Nice of you to keep the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy up top. Here we go,” she pushed in the cassette.
“The what? How did you know about the Ring? Who are you?” But Elijodo was cut off as music began to play – out of the air! Or was it that strange, box-like thing? – and a human voice using elvish words began to speak. Elijodo didn’t know what to make of it at first; but he soon paid very close attention. Maybe it was like a sort of play . . . About him? But – that hadn’t happened yet . . .
To say it, or not to say it, that is the question. Okay, I’ll give into temptation: “Bwahahahaha!!!!!”
Yeah! Please comment. I haven’t gotten an answer from Elijah Wood yet. Sigh. Again, Part 2 is in the story section, and if anyone needs it, I’ll find the address. Enjoy!