 Chapter the Third Gandalf was back in town, it seemed, the hobbit Lumbertoe Proudfoot thought, as he rode by on his wagon with Frodo Baggins the hobbit boy. He gave him a scowl, a dirty look, because he was not happy to see him. Not happy to see him at all. He thought of the last time he had seen Gandalf, when he had taken his son Edgewood on an adventure to the Forest of Darkness. His son mysteriously vanished, Gandalf had said. Or had he? The hobbit children were all playing hobbit games until they saw Gandalf ride up on his wagon, which was pulled by a donkey. The children all liked Gandalf, because he had a pointy hat and fireworks. They ran after him, hollering “Gandalf!” Then more children joined them, hollering “Gandalf!” “Gandalf!” another child, young Billysmart Gamgee, yelled. What would his big brother think if he saw him yelling, Billysmart thought. “Gandalf! Gandalf!” all the children said together, and they all chased him down the dusty trail, their hairy feet kicking up more dust. But he did not stop, nor did he even say hello. Was Gandalf mad at them? Did they do something wrong, the children wondered? Then out of the back of the wagon, fireworks went off. A little shower of them, going “Bing! Bang! Bing ka-boom!” and it made the kids happy. They knew Gandalf was not mad at them, and that made them happy. So did the fireworks. Lumbertoe saw the kids being happy, and he could not help but smile. Then his wife, the she-hobbit Appleroot Stumptoe-Proudfoot, came out and saw Lumbertoe smiling at Gandalf. Appleroot disapproved, and it made her mad to see Lumbertoe smiling at Gandalf. So Lumbertoe stopped smiling. But he didn’t stop thinking. What if he could find Edgewood, his son? What if he sneaked out after Bilbo Baggins’ party tonight, and went to find him on his own? Yes, he could do that, he thought. After all, it’s not like he hadn’t been on adventures before. He thought back to that time at the Prancing Pony. So many years ago . . . and what was that gorgeous elf’s name? Ah, yes . . . . Arwen.  Chapter the 37th Arwen was on her horse, with Frodo, dying, in the saddle in front of her. It was a white horse. The Nazgul chased her, and chased her, and chased her. They chased her across plains, and past trees, and up and down hills. They went through the woods, but she still outran them. Her horse was fast. She knew she had to hurry, or her little friend Frodo would be dead. Finally, she arrived at a stream. Her horse crossed it, clippity-clop, splash, clippity-clop, splash, splash. She could feel the breath of the Nazgul upon her neck, and it reminded her of Aragorn, but in a bad way. Finally, she wheeled around on her horse. The Nazgul started to cross the stream, but drew back, as if they were afraid of water. Arwen drew her mighty sword, and held it before her. It was a mighty sword, she thought, mighty enough to cut someone if she had to. “If you want him,” she hollered, “Come and claim him!” All of the Nazgul drew their mighty swords. One of them yelled, “I’ll cut you, bitch!” Then the Nazgul started crossing the stream! Arwen thought, “I have to think of something, but what?” Ah! Then she remembered — she would use her power! Her power of hydrokinesis — the ability to make water appear and do whatever you wanted it to do. Summoning up her mental will, she looked down at the stream, and it started filling up with water! Then she looked up, and lots of water, a flood of it, started pouring down the river! With a smirk, she made the water take the form of giant, wet horses as it hurtled down the river toward the Nazgul. As the water reached them, and flowed over them, the Nazgul and their horses, black as midnight, were all swirled away as if by a rushing flood. “I guess they’re all wet, eh, Frodo?” Arwen laughed. But Frodo felt like he was going to die. He was very sick. He had been stabbed. It hurt. Who was this woman with the funny ears, he wondered. All he could think about was how he had been stabbed. And he felt like he was fading away, and like he was very sick. “We’ve got to get you to Dad! He’ll know what to do!” Arwen shouted, and hurled Frodo on the back of her white horse. “To Rivendell — AWAY!!!” Arwen hollered, and her horse listened to her, because she was a kind mistress to him. Alan Kevin J.M. Salvatore-Foster-Stevens has seen many movies, and has written novelizations for all of them. He lives in Minneapolis with his wife and they have cats. |
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