Ring Child

By Kiamii

Chapter Two "Istari-Child"

Upon their arrival to the Bree, Frodo felt immensely relieved to have finally stumbled across the Prancing Pony. Young Archir the Emerald rubbed his eyes sleepily, his hand in Sam's who clutched the small hand tightly. What a journey the four hobbits and one wizard toddler had made. From their departure of the Shire to Maggot to even Tom Bombadill who had taken an immense liking in the little Istari. The Wraiths were as foul and as dark as they were described. Archil knew word had spread around Middle Earth now, about the small Istari child who was traveling with four hobbits. Gildor had told him that children of any kind with the exception of humans were rare, and for a small human child to have been actually born with the powers of an Istari and the ability to speak any sole language (as Archir found out the long way) as he so wished to. Gildor told Archir that he would be a treasure among any creature.

Joy...

"You tired Arch?" Frodo asked, looking down at their charge. Archir yawned and rubbed his eyes again, showing that he was indeed tired. He hardly spoke about but, he communicated greatly with the four. Frodo grinned and lifted Archir up into his arms, always taking great delight in the fact that he could actually carry Archir but, frowning at how terribly light and small the wizard boy was.

They entered the Prancing Pony and found themselves looking about in awe. There were very different kind of folk in Bree indeed. The men of Bree were very independant and friendly, their brown-haired broad faces spotted. Many types of creatures could be spotted from Hobbits to Dwarves to even Elves! They turned to see themselves facing a man by the name of Barliman Butterbur. He was a jolly looking, yet forgetful fellow who peered at the Hobbits with glee, "Hobbits! Four Hobbits! Even more so, hobbits from the shire judging by your talk."

He smiled friendly before he noticed the child fast asleep in Frodo's arms. A hood was over the toddler's head and Barliman looked curious as any would.

"A young hobbit child?" He inquired. Frodo decided that it was safe to say, shaking his head.

"A friend of ours, Gandalf the Gray, left him in our care. He is no hobbit. I am Mr. Underhill and these are my companions Mr. Took, Mr. Brandybuck, Samwise Gamgee, and the youngling that I carry is Archir." Frodo explained.

"Gandalf! Dear me there must be one reason or another as to why then. Archir eh? Sounds like a right suiting name for some reason. Well now... Oh dear me, I've been sidetracked. Nob! Nob! Where is Bob!" Barliman called out joyfully. He showed the group the room and Frodo rested the child upon the largest of the beds, changing his clothing for the soft pajamas that was left with Archir upon the leaving of Gandalf. Frodo put a hand on the tiny boy's chest before he and the others decided to take a trip down into the open area where men and others were singing and just about drunk. From the encouragement of Butterbur, they found themselves in the company of the Bree. Merry had stayed to keep an eye on young Archir who remained blissfully asleep, erecting a smile from the hobbits.

The place that they found themselves upon was a rather large common-room, the gathering both mixed and large. Partially was the room drought in smoke and the other in clear air. Baliman was already chatting with a costumer or two as the three hobbits entered. Before they could blink, they were being welcomed grandly by the chorus of many. They were introduced to a number of names that Frodo, Sam, and Pippin were unsure of whose belonged to who in some cases.

Frodo and the others listened to the chitter and chatter as they sipped their mugs and shared a grin, occasionally looking back at the exit where Merry and Archir were residing. Frodo turned his head before noticing that he was being spied upon by a man of strange appeals, having a tall tankard in front and smoking a long-stemmed pipe that was most oddly carved. He was hung about in his own relaxed manner and bore a dark green cloak. A hood covered the face, yet the eyes of him were seen to be staring directly towards Frodo.

The hobbits asked of whom he was and they soon found out two or so things. His name was Strider in these lands and he was a Ranger. He was unknown by many and he was a traveller who did what he wished.

The man came towards him, sitting down next to Frodo who noticed he was already alone, Sam having gone to check up on Archir and Merry for a wee bit while Pippin succumbed to the many drinks.

"Ah, Master Underhill if I am assuming right from old Butterbur's words."

"It is," Frodo said quietly, darting his eyes.

"Well, young sir, I would chance to stop the young hobbit friend of yours before he revealed many things needlessly and dangerously might I add. Don't you agree?" Strider said with an ironic thinned look. Frodo's eyebrows quirked and he spotted Pippin not far from them. Listening closely, Pippin was giving an alarming number of tales away to those about him, smashed as a hobbit could get with beer.

That night didn't particularly end well for Frodo who had distracted them with a song which had worked to distract but, had ended with the ring falling upon his finger and for the Bree folk to now see them as distrustful. Frodo felt such a fool. He crawled under a table or two to the dark corner near him before he dared take his ring off and pocketing it.

To make such a matter worse, Strider cornered him and revealed that he knew his real name and what the ring was. He warned that he wished to have a talk with him before leaving. After dealing with Butterbur, Frodo trudged up to the parlour with Sam and Pippin. Merry was not able to be located for the present but, young Archir now sat up in his bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes to rid of his sleep. Frodo also noted with dread that Strider was in the room, near the bed and staring at the child in a thoughtful expression mingled with shock and amazement.

"Frodo? Sam? Pip?" Archir yawned cutely as he called their name, hearing the shouts at seeing the man so close to the little boy.

"Hello Archir, I see you slept well," Frodo said weakly and urging the little boy to come to him. Archir moved his feet to slide off the bed when Strider reached out and plucked Archir from the bed, pulling him onto his lap and studying the Istari child.

"Incredible, I am sure Gandalf has done something to cause this yet again." Strider murmured so low that only Archir heard. Frodo was silent as he saw how Archir did not struggle, therefore he gave only some trust to the man. Sam was shuffling next to him, clearly not trusting Strider a piece.

"Who are you sir?" Archir asked, taking Pippin's question.

"Me? I am called Strider here. Young Frodo Baggins here promised to have a small chat with me. May I inquire your name?" Strider said, almost gently.

"Archir, Archir the Emerald." The toddler yawned and he leaned against Strider, feeling complete trust in the man for a reason he could not comprehend. Strider's eyebrows both quirked at the mention of the color title that represented an Istari.

"You said I might hear something to my advantage, which is what I would want to know now." Frodo said firmly.

"Several things but, of course I require my price." Strider said slyly.

"Price!?" Frodo and Sam chorused. Strider nodded and wrapped his arms around the young boy in his arms, looking at the child with a smile. This alarmed the hobbits.

"Do not think I want to steal the child. I merely wish that you take me along with you, until I wish to leave you on your journey. For we go the same way and this boy so young that he is may need more of a guide and protection." Strider said with a quirked eyebrow. Frodo found himself agreeing on the condition that his information was good deal to his price.

Archir had fallen asleep once again and Strider kept him safely tucked in his arms as he explained and the message he was delivering. He described the fear that Wraiths brought forth and how he had no wish for someone like little Archir to experience, should his expression be one to go by.

A knock at their door stirred Archir and Strider adjusted the lad to relaxed against his neck as Butterbur entered with a letter to Frodo. What emitted was an array of argument and revelation before they read the letter.

THE PRANCING PONY, BREE. Midyear's Day, Shire Year, 1418.

Dear Frodo,

Bad news has reached me from my place here. I have had to leave at once. You must leave Bad End as fast as possible and get out of the Shire before July at the latest of times. I will return and trail your hobbit tracks, if I see you away. Leave me a message should you pass Bree, with the landlord Butterbur. Upon travel, you might meet a man who calls himself Strider. He knows of the business that we have and can help you. Travel to Rivendell and keep Archir the Emerald safe. Till I reacquaint with you again my boy.

Yours in haste

GANDALF

PS. Do NOT use It again, for for any reason at all! You'll do well not to travel in the midst of darkness.

PPS. Make sure the man is really Strider. There are many strange folk. His truest name is Aragorn.

PPPS. I hope Butterbur sends this prompt. A worth man he is, but he is terribly forgetful. If he does not send this on time, I shall roast him.

Fare Well!

Frodo blinked at the message before looking towards Strider, "It would have made a loads things easier if you had told me you were a friend of Gandalf."

"Would you have believed me? I did not know that Gandalf's name was as simple as that to gain your belief. I knew none of the letter and I thought I had to persuade you to trust without proof. I did not intend to tell you of myself just yet, I wanted to study you first, and make sure of you." Strider said in an almost dismayed manner.

"I trust you," Archir said softly, interrupting the silence that hung. Strider blinked and looked down, having heard the soft and childish voice in his lap.

"I am glad you do so young one." Strider said with a smile at his lips.

Frodo coughed and they continued their talk, finally deciding to trust the man. When Merry brought news of the Black Riders, Strider ordered the hobbits to retrieve their belongings and to settle in the parlour, not flocking to their rooms. Archir cuddled up to the man and looked around curiously. Once the hobbits lay down their blankets with their feet towards the hearth, Strider leaned into his chair with Archir relaxed on his lap, leaning against his chest. One by one they fell into slumber.

It was later in early night that Frodo awoke. He found himself clutching little Archir to his chest, Strider having placed the sleeping boy in his arms. Archir stirred as well.

"I can sense something Frodo," Archir whispered, sitting up. He crawled his way to the window and was picked up by Strider as he did so.

"Come, I feel that they are gone now." Strider told the hobbits who had awoken among the talk and movement. He let Archir on his feet and Sam took the little boy's hand as they went into the bedrooms. They were glad they had not slept in their beds that night, for the room was a massacre of feathers and mat. Archir ran over to the beds and looked around, terribly reminded of his second year as Harry Potter when Ginny Weasley had trashed his room to find the diary... how very similar this situation was. Instead of a girl were evil men. Instead of a diary was a ring of great strength. Archir turned around to see his current guardians looking around just as feared. He went back over to them and tugged at Frodo's hand.

"Frodo?" Archir asked hesitantly. He couldn't identify what he was feeling. He felt terrified but, at the same time understanding of the situation at hand. It was times like these he wished he wasn't of three years old in body and somewhat in mind. Frodo looked down and put a hand on Archir's shoulder, drawing him to his side.

"Everything is alright Archir. Just a fright is all." Sam said softly. Strider watched them curiously before suggesting they take leave. It took a few days to reassemble their runaway ponies and work for Butterbur for cost but, they were soon well on their path to Rivendell. Strider had placed Archir on his horse in front of him as he rode, so that he could keep an eye on the child. He found a strange protectiveness of the little boy and would watch Archir play with some sort of stuffed toy, or falling asleep cuddled into his chest.

What caught Strider was the dark black hair that was now to the toddler's shoulders and tied back with a tie. He had stunning emerald eyes and was of the age of three, wearing an emerald green cloak that only a wizard would wear. He was the only child to ever have been born with purely magic and still be human, and he understood Elvish. Strider had whispered to Archir in elvish one lone night when he had volunteered to watch the child, and had been shocked when he had received a reply from the tiny toddler. He had already been surprised when Archir could speak quite well for someone his age as well. Must have been expected from a child of Valar. For that were what Istari were.

They continued farther down until they reached Weathertop, also known as the Old Road. From there they simply travelled along the lands, passing a stream and hills as they did so. When the hobbits slept, Strider would take a time of his own to tuck Archir in to his blanket and to whisper to the boy about the tales of the land. Archir would smile that heavenly innocent smile of his and Strider found himself craving that time with the boy. There was just something about Archir that drew about his attention.

Upon stumbling upon a land they knew not, they stood in confusion before Sam found himself quoting something that Bilbo Baggins had once sang. Strider informed them that the tale had been The Fall of Gil-galad in an ancient tongue of which Bilbo had translated. They soon decided to travel up and came to the top where they found a wide ring of ancient stonework, now crumbling with age-long dried grass. In the centre of the circle was a cairn of broken piled stoned, each blackened in charcoal.

"Very dreary and depressing this place is. No water nor shelter nor even Gandalf!" Merry sighed, clutching the hand of a very quiet Archir whom studied the rocks in interest.

"Maybe people did rituals here," Archir murmured, wanting to walk forward to look more but, Merry would not allow so. Instead he pouted at the hobbit who reluctantly gave in but, handed his small hand to Strider who took him into his arms and knelt down into the circle to show little Archir. The wizard held his hand out.

"There's a stroke, a dot, and three strokes. What's it mean Strider?" Archir asked curiously.

"The left stroke might have been a G-ruine with thin branches, though one cannot know for sure. Rangers use runes and come here sometimes to mark things. They look like they stand for G3 and perhaps a sign by Gandalf on October third, to warn us." Strider explained, placing Archir on the ground. Archir looked over his shoulder.

"What's that?" Archir asked with wide emerald eyes. He felt suddenly cold with dread. Strider swept Archir up and hid him away behind the ruined circle, pulling the four hobbits with him. Upon their hiding, the Black Riders were headed near them.

"Can the Riders see anything? I mean, all they show are noses that smell us." Merry murmured.

"They can not see us per say, they can see the shadows of our minds though and smell blood of living things. Their strong points being their senses. The rings draws them to us." Strider whispered.

"Then how can I hide without them spying upon me!" Frodo asked in fear, clutching Archir to his chest tightly. The boy looked at them in confusion. The group of six stayed hidden as riders drew by, unseeing and unfeeling of their bodies pressed against the rock.

When darkness flew close, they journeyed farther, Strider singing ann-thennath to the hobbits and Archir, the child listening in interest. As he told them of the elves, Archir could see that the man's face was lit with happiness and contentment as he spoke. As they sat upon a fire, they felt the presence of darkness come near and Strider kept Archir burrowed in his arms as he drew out his sword and the others looked upon a spot to find three or more black figures. The Wraiths.

Pippin and Merry were full of fear as they ducked upon the ground. Sam, his loyal self, stayed by Frodo who was quaking in his spot. Archir blinked and noticed how Frodo seemed to resist. To resist putting on the ring that would take them near? Archir struggled to get out of Strider's hold but, the man did not relent and Archir watched helplessly afraid as the ring slipped upon the left hand of Frodo.

It was almost quiet before the Riders now met them there and Archir was gripped to Strider's chest as he fought against them. He looked wildly around for Frodo and he felt his insides grow cold as he heard a cry and Frodo appeared again, lying heavily down with a pool of his own dark crimson blood, a blade having struck his shoulder. Archir cried out and managed to run towards his friend and somewhat guardian as Strider dealt with the fate of the four riders.

"Frodo! Don't leave me!" Archir yelled, his eyes wide with horrified realization and he shook the Hobbit's shoulders as the others gathered about. Strider ordered the others to take Frodo towards by the fire before he quickly left with a frown, saying that he would return. Archir felt his eyes sting and couldn't stop himself from bawling as he saw Frodo's pale face.

"Shhh... calm down Archi, Frodo will be well and aware when you awake. Go to sleep, you need rest after such a terrible fright for a child your age." Merry whispered to the boy, drawing him to his chest and rubbing circles into the green cloak. Archir hiccupped and began to feel drowsy before he did indeed fall asleep, lying in Merry's arms partially as the night wore on.

Author's Note: To begin a simple explanation; Harry is now a three year old child with the emotions and similar thinking of one. He can still partially think like himself, only he grows as a toddler with a wise knowledge of certain things, able to spot things. A gift from Valar. I hope you liked this Chapter, it has a lot of exerts from Book One Chapters 4 to Book One Chapter 12 of The Fellowship of the Ring. I'm having a lot of fun with this story and Archir will be revealed more in depth with his personality as time goes on of course. Some of the weird "time" language in the story is of my writing. I was known in English Class for writing like that oddly enough. Feel free to ask any questions.