Chapter Eight - Gift-giving
"Yes, yes. Made by the elves, you know."
Tavaril's sharply pointed ears pricked up the sound of Bilbo's voice. Creeping up to his room carefully, she pressed her thin face against the closed wooden door. It was decorated with the most exquisite designs: Elvish writing, little golden flowers, the Trees of Valinor. Two utterly beautiful trees! One of silver, one of gold. This was just a picture of the real trees back at ... home.
Her ears twitched at the zing of a sword coming out of its sheath and into the sunlight. "Elvish metal," she breathed. She'd know that sound anywhere! Only a dagger, it seemed, but a decent sized sword for a hobbit. But what an innocent, ordinary halfling an Elvish sword for, she had absolutely no clue. But then again, these were no ordinary hobbits.
"It's quite light," came Frodo's voice. So Elladan was right. Bilbo was giving Frodo a gift, and a rather lovely gift of that!
"Ah! Here's a pretty thing," Bilbo said. After hearing a gasp from Frodo, she peeped through the bottom of the door. With wide eyes, she got up and sprinted outside.
"Mithril?" she thought out loud as she came to the window of Bilbo's room. Peering through it, she saw the old hobbit give a coat of chainmail to Frodo. It glimmered bright in the sun. The light caught it beautifully and it let off a white glow upon there faces. Tavaril watched closely as Bilbo told his nephew to put it on.
Frodo began to unbutton his top when an object on a chain around his neck was illuminated by the sun. Tavaril felt her heart rate immediately speed up. We wants it, her mind told her. We needs it.
She shook her head. "No," she gulped. "N-not yet."
It's ours!
"Stop it."
If we wants it, we gets it!
"By the Valar," she held her head in pain. Her mind was practically screaming at her now. Oh, how she wanted to gaze at its golden beauty. Oh, how she craved its glorious power...
"Oh, m-my old ring," Bilbo smiled weakly as he saw the ring that Frodo had around his neck. "Th-the one I gave you when I left for Rivendell..." Reaching out his hand, he said: "I would ... very much like to hold it again..." Frodo's happy hobbit expression changed to a more sour, bitter one. He grasped the ring and back away.
Tavaril saw Bilbo roar at his nephew. Only, she didn't see Bilbo. The dear hobbit had turned into a horrible, old, evil-looking creature. One that was corrupt with extreme power. One that was absolutely horrible to look at, as though a young child's foolish nightmare had come true. With nails like jagged talons, he lunged at Frodo as his skin grew sickly. His bulging eyes and sharp teeth made Frodo jump back in fright.
But it only lasted a moment (thankfully), and as soon as Bilbo realised what he'd done, he turned back into the hobbit everyone loved. Colour returned to his skin and it was as though nothing had happened. Suddenly, Bilbo whimpered and turned away so that Frodo couldn't see his face.
"I'm sorry you have to bear this burden," he sat down and sobbed freely. "I'm sorry for everything..."
Frodo quickly did up his shirt and covered the ring that caused so much discomfort. Tavaril's heart immediately returned to its normal pace and her mind was calm once more. Breathing a sigh of relief, she watched as Frodo went over and hugged Bilbo.
"It's dangerous, Frodo," the poor hobbit warned.
"Dangerous," Tavaril agreed quietly.
But so precious.
Frodo's eyes darted to the window to see nothing but the green grass untouched by man and small stream running happily outside.
And he saw no more of the mysterious she-elf. Why? Well, I was hoping you'd be able to tell me!
A/N: Hmmm yeah I'm not happy with this chapter. I don't know why...
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top