Scions of the Third Age

When Elanor woke the next morning, a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground. Nildë was already up and prancing in the soft white stuff as she chased her tail while Aibreán started breakfast over the fire.

"Get dressed, sweeting," the Shieldmaiden called out gaily. "Breakfast is almost ready and we should start out soon. Tanner said it might snow some more this afternoon."

"Snow…" Elanor mused aloud. The hobbit lass had, of course, seen snow; however, it did not make its appearance this early in the autumn. It would be much closer to Yule before the Shire saw a dusting of the white powder. She shivered slightly as a stiff wind blew past the wagon and she ducked back in to put on warm clothes and a cloak to join Aibreán and the others at the fire.

"Where is everyone?" Elanor asked a few minutes later when she noticed only Peregrine and her father at the fire. Tanner was still absent and Aibreán seemed to have left to join him. Meriadoc was missing too; and even Nildë was gone.

Samwise answered, "Nevermind, Elli," though he threw his friend an anxious look. "Come on over here and eat your breakfast. We don’t have time to dawdle this morning."

Understanding her father’s tone of voice, she stifled her questions and sat down to eat. That is not to say, however, that Elanor was oblivious to the anxiety between the two older hobbits. She saw the glance her father gave Peregrine, and so she pricked her ears up to listen for whatever danger was that they seemed to fear.

Yet, neither was Samwise oblivious to his daughter’s curiosity. To try to keep her mind off what might be bothering him, he asked Peregrine, "So do you think Diamond has packed up for Bag End, Pip?"

"Oh, most certainly," he replied. "Any excuse to keep from being home alone. And Garnet needed a change of scenery."

"Your niece, right? Pervinca’s lass?" asked the mayor.

"Aye. Since my sister died, Anson has been inconsolable. Di thought it best if the girl come stay with us while he sorts himself out…"

"How old is she, Uncle Pip?" asked Elanor eagerly, completely distracted by this discussion.

"Well… to be honest, my dear, I’m not exactly certain," he answered. "Probably your age or perhaps a little younger. Maybe of an age with young Frodo. I wonder if he and my niece are getting along all right…"

“Frodo usually doesn’t have much use for girls,” she replied archly, “if how he treats me is any indication…” Suddenly she remembered Frodo’s “orc” arrow in her pocket and felt somewhat rueful. “Still, he can be thoughtful when he wants and he’s stood up for me often enough. Ken Sandyman is always bothering me and Frodo has gotten a few bruises to keep him away from me.”

Samwise raised a severe eyebrow, “I’d just as soon your brother didn’t fight with anybody, let alone a Sandyman. You two shouldn’t have anything to do with those folk if you can help it.”

“Tell Ken that, Papa,” she replied airily. “He’s such a nuisance!”

Before Samwise could give her a sharp answer, the trio heard some commotion a little ways away from camp.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Peregrine who stood to peer hard into the distance.

His friend also stood and added, “Nor I.”

“Will you please tell me what’s…” she started.

Baying in the distance made her blood run colder than the snow on her feet. She heard Nildë’s small if spirited answer and knew that the creatures were more than mere dogs.

“Elli, get in the wagon,” commanded her father tersely.

“What are those creatures?” she asked anxiously.

Peregrine said urgently, “Listen to your father, lass! Get in that wagon… now!”

Elanor had never heard her Uncle Pip use that tone of voice before and she quickly scurried toward the wagon.

Just then Meriadoc galloped into camp on his sturdy Rohirrim pony to shout, “Take cover! Warg-riders coming this way!”

Samwise scrambled towards the wagon as Peregrine drew his sword and mounted his pony in one smooth action.

Another long howl stopped Elanor in her tracks. The sound was terrifying and she stood frozen to that spot, like one of the great statues in the marble halls of Minas Tirith. She did not understand at all what was happening. Warg-riders? Did they even still exist in Middle-earth? She rather thought of them as fantastical creatures with which her mother used to threaten punishment upon her and Frodo when they were especially trying her nerves.

A moment later more riders charged into their little camp: Aibreán and Tanner first, then behind them an elf and a dwarf, followed by several rangers.

“Quickly!” shouted Tanner to the hobbits on foot. “They are not far behind!”

The elf drew an arrow from his elegant quiver and sent it sailing into the dense forest behind them. His marksmanship was rewarded with a strangled yowl in the distance.

“I suppose you think that puts you in the lead again,” bellowed the dwarf amiably to the elf. His companion merely smiled over his shoulder.

Clambering up onto the wagon, Samwise assumed that Elanor had done the same. Still, the hobbit lass stood horrified. Nildë’s insistent yapping from Aibreán’s saddlebags brought Elanor to her senses, but not in time to see the wagon start forward and then just as suddenly back up as the horses balked in tense fear.

Startled, she stumbled back into the snow and was in danger of being run over by the large wheels when to her great surprise Elanor found herself lifted onto horseback and swiftly borne away from the peril of the wargs and their orc masters.

Her rescuer was hooded and she could not make out his face. Neither did he spare a moment for introductions. He pressed his mount to run harder, and the lass could hear the rumbling of the wagon in their wake. This was no time for niceties!

After some time their pace eased and finally the fleeing group took a moment to pause, all of them left rather breathless from the tumult. Samwise carefully drew the wagon up next to Elanor’s savior as the ranger pushed back his hood and looked around for further danger.

“Your Highness!” the mayor breathed. “I do thank you for taking such good care of my girl. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to her!”

Elanor looked up the face of Eldarion Telcontar, her rescuer, with wonder. Gray eyes looked down at her with amusement and curiosity as he said, “So, this is the fair Elanor Gamgee? I took you for a child, mistress. My mistake…”

Too stunned to speak, the small damsel merely nodded and continued to stare into those steely eyes.

“I think she may be in shock, Your Highness,” said Samwise. “Why don’t you let me take her?”

“I’m… I’m all right, Papa,” Elanor finally managed to say. “That is… if His Highness doesn’t mind me riding with him?”

Eldarion’s answer was a broad grin as he urged his mount forward. “Not at all, Mistress Gamgee. I would welcome the company.” Looking around to Samwise and the other hobbits, he then suggested, “We should continue. We’re not completely out of danger, I think. The others will catch us up when they can.”


-end of Chapter Ten-