Fan Fiction ❯ Fairy Dust Dreams ❯ Guardian ( Chapter 13 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Chapter Twelve
Guardian
 
Silence echoed around the deck and I couldn't help but shutter. Aragorn had given me explicit instructions not to say a word. He had made sure I had my rather rude looking sword, and then had also added to my lot a few small swords, which he had told me were daggers. It was unlike any dagger I had seen, and I fancied it very much.
“That dagger will not protect you from these foul beast,” Aragorn had whispered to me in what seemed annoyance at my sudden giddy attitude toward the knives, “the sword is what you must use, the daggers are backups.” Aragorn had gotten testy of late and I had frowned at him, “Do you understand, Drea?” This only caused a deeper frown.
But as I was saying, the entire ship was drenched in silence as we slowly pulled up along side the bank. I could hear the unmistakable sound of orgs and what other foul beast were running about down there on the land.
“Retched humans! You're late!” one grumbled at our ship.
“Well what are you waiting for! Come on we need the extra hands, get out here!”
That was the cue, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn dashed over the edge, causing quite a stir among the troops. The fight was on, and I couldn't help but smile.
Aragorn had gotten away from my sight, as had the others. The ghosts were now free and running, killing everything evil in their path. I was still in the boat.
I looked around, trying to figure out the best way to get off the dumb thing. It looked like a far drop, and I could just see myself breaking a leg and then being completely helpless.
As I stood there my eyes sweeping over the sides of the boat, a terribly loud thud caused me to back away with a flinch. A wicked kind of laugh followed! I looked around again and saw the ladder. I had a terrible feeling of dread and yet excitement as I watched the rather scrawny looking org appear over the edge. He gurgled at me and all I could do was stare at him in disbelief.
“Grrrck, mmm-s'what's this?” he laughed then seeming to think himself quite clever. I remembered then my sword, and pulled it out awkwardly. This nearly sent the org into a fit of laughter. “Goingss to sticks mees with thatss pieces ofs steels ares ya!” he gurgled. I frowned.
A slight wisp in the corner of my eyes caused me to turn suddenly, and there standing next to me stood the “master” ghost (aka, the rude one). I was so shocked to see him mere inches away from me that I gasped and nearly fell over the edge of the ship. He glared at me ever so slightly and I smiled nervously back.
The org, also seeing the ghost, had stopped all sorts of merry making and with a wide-eyed blink he suddenly realized he was going to lose. This sent him staggering in the opposite direction.
I sheathed my sword proudly and then turned my eyes on the ghost. He however was staring at me in complete disbelief and I frowned at him in confusion.
He frowned very deeply, something I would hope never to see again!
“You are going to be extremely difficult to watch..” he grumbled wispily and I stared at him in shock. He however had by now pulled out a long “ghostly” sword and was sweeping toward the fleeing org's back.
It was over in mere seconds and the little org had squealed his last. The ghost then turned cold eyes back on me and grinned rather evilly I thought. I though, was beyond the point of being intimidated.
“What do you mean I'm going to be hard to watch?” I asked with a frown.
 
The battle was practically over… Aragorn had seen to it that I would fall behind, which left me to only wander in the wake of all the battling. I couldn't really complain, I was in all honesty completely caught up in the scenes around me. The ground was littered with fallen bodies of almost every unimaginable thing, but really… even with all the excitement I was having at finding thrown body pieces here and there (yes sounds morbid) I couldn't put away this nagging anger toward Aragorn…
The silent wispy glimmer that constantly was present around me didn't help that anger any.
The ghost wasn't all that thrilled with me either as I could very well tell. He had seen hardly any action and I knew he blamed me for that. I blamed Aragorn.
“Can I at least know your name?” I asked nonchalantly as I jabbed at a piece of scattered chain mail with my bored sword. The ghost turned dead eyes on me, I continued the nonchalant innocents.
“My name is none of your concern,” he said.
I nodded slowly, “Yea… that's ok, I'll just call you Rudy.”
He frowned at me, obviously not getting what I was saying, I shrugged, and he blew it off as `strange human, girl talk again..'
My jokes are never appreciated… I thought grudgingly.
“You know,” I suddenly began to ramble, “this whole epic that I've found myself in has turned out to not be something of my wild imagination.” I looked briefly over at Rudy but noticed all to well that he didn't seem to care I was talking, I continued anyways, “Yup, it seems I'm really here, apparently it's not all just a dream…” I eyed my sword for a moment suddenly realizing that it was in fact a real sword. I swept my eyes around me taking in the chaos of the battlefield… it was all real?
I eyed the ghost I had taken to calling “Rudy” and frowned.
“Rudy, or errr, I mean, ummm ghost?”
Rudy turned cold eyes on me expectantly.
“Well… umm, why exactly did Aragorn want you to watch over me?”
Rudy smiled ever so slightly, “What makes you think, mortal, that it was Lord Aragorn?”
This shocked me to the core and I faltered in a step, “Uhh, well, who told you to watch over me?”
His smile widened, and then suddenly vanished, “I do not dwell on such matters as those of the living,” he proclaimed silently. I glared at him.
“Whatever…” I muttered.
 
The battle was at best over; I felt that I had missed a huge part of the story. Rudy and I had had no other conversation, and I wished he would have said something so I could of ignored him.
I was still walking, stepping over fallen dead when I heard a familiar cry…
“Merry!” it called and I looked wide-eyed all around.
“Pippin?” I said looking around me. I then saw him as he scampered over the trunk of a huge dead elephant thingy. “Hey, Pippin!” I yelled at him and then changing my course I turned and headed toward him. Rudy grumbled but kept close to me.
“Merry!” Pippin called cupping his mouth with one free hand.
I finally caught up to him and grasped his arm, “Pippin, hey how are you?”
He turned startled eyes on me and then relief flooded through him, “Drea, please help me find Merry,” he asked almost franticly.
“Of course,” I answered as I looked in the direction I kind of figured Merry would be located, and spotting suddenly the remnants of a tattered green cloak I pointed enthusiastically in that direction. “Over there! I think I see him!”
Pippin was there in matter of seconds moving aside the heavy org that had practically covered his dear friend. “Merry!” he nearly cried, I ran to help him.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1