Chapter soundtrack: 'All The Small Things' by Blink-182.

† Chp. VII †

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Waking up in an overly comfortable bed within an elven kingdom is weird, but finding yourself laying next to two curly haired hobbits is even weirder.

Although, it's quite the relief when you realise that your clothes have remained in the same location since the night before, and Robin's mind does not want to wonder into thinking what it would have been like otherwise.

Robin stirs, attempting to sit up as Pippin holds onto her torso with a death grip. Merry lays on the other side, his back firmly pressed against her ribs. It is quite the odd scenario.

Finally, with much effort, Robin successfully escapes the sheets of the bed without awakening the halflings. Although, it is admitibly pretty hard to wake two hobbits who guzzled themselves unconscious with elven booze.

"Well, that's one way to get close with your fellowship." Robin snorts, sliding out of the silver dress and back into her leather pants and grey top, hopping around like a one legged duck as she struggles to wriggle into her bottoms. After tugging on her boots and slipping on her leather jacket, Robin goes to tie up her thick mop, before remembering that her locks have already been styled.

With the turn of a heel, the eager outlaw takes a step in the direction of the door, before being startled by the pop of a voice.

"Ahh my head! The sun is burning a quarry into my head!" Pippin whines, shoving a pillow over his eyes.

"Oh shut it Pip, there's nothing valuable to find in there anyway." Merry retorts, stirring beneath the sheet.

Robin snorts at his remark, bringing Pippin back to life as he suddenly sits up. At first he furrows his eyebrows, then a look of realisation strikes his features as his face lights up with excitement.

"Oh my, Merry! We slept with the one and only Robin Hood!"

Robin's eyebrows raise at this exclamation, and she can't help but let a chuckle escape from her lips at the absurdity of his words.

"Yeah, you might want to rephrase it if you're going to pronounce it to all of Middle Earth." She remarks with a grin, before exiting out of the room and leaving the hobbits to sort themselves.

Robin is already running half an hour late to the departure of the fellowship, and she can only imagine how much longer the hungover halflings will take.

•

"The Ringbearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom and you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you w-"

"Don't worry, I'm here! The master warrior has arrived!"

Elrond raises his eyebrow as he is interrupted by Robin, who hastily makes her way towards the fellowship, slipping herself next to Legolas as she joins the posse.

"Sorry I'm late, the dog ate my homework." She exclaims, before furrowing her eyebrows at her own remark.

With his eyebrow still raised, Elrond continues on with his depature speech, sending an unimpressed glance in Robins direction.

"With all members of the fellowship now gathered, I bid farewell. Hold to your purpose and may the blessings of elves, and men, and all free folk go with you."

Robin raises her hand to ask a question, but the motion is seen as a farewell gesture, along with the fact that she notices the blonde elf beside her doing some form of a heart felt hand gesture to Elrond, and she gets carried away with copying the signal to dramatise the moment.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ringbearer." Gandalf remarks, as he gazes down towards the brave halfling, and the fellowship turns to walk through Rivendell's arch. His remark reminds Robin of her thought.

"Well, actually, we are also awaiting the two hungover hobbits." She exclaims, stirring confusion from the onlookers, before all attention is averted to the two halflings who come stumbling down the steps.

"Wait for us!" Merry shouts.

"Yes, wait up! You can't leave without your two most stealthy w-"

Pippin's statement is cut short as his hobbit sized foot catches on the corner of a step, sending him tumbling down the remainder of stairs and leaving a rather amused Robin.

•

~Røbin's P.Ø.V~

I am a pretty good judge of character, and within the short span of time that I have spent with the fellowship, I can already piece together their motives.

For obvious reasons, Frodo was chosen to bear the ring. But I also sense that there is a deeper meaning. He wants to be like his uncle. He wants to follow along in his oddly large, kinda hairy footsteps.

Sam is the poor bugger who got dragged along as the wing hobbit, and has now found himself on a journey much more intense than originally planned. But he's loyal, and that's clear to see.

Gandalf, the old soul, takes much pleasure in accompanying little ones on great adventures. As much as he denies it, it's pretty clear to see.

Aragorn is a noble man who only seeks to help, he doesn't want attention or power. He's pretty cute aswell, too bad he has a pretty little elf waiting for him back in the pointy ear realm.

Boromir, on the other hand, does want attention. But not the kind where a girl flashes her tits to a man in order for her life to have meaning, but the kind of attention someone seeks when they want to make their race and kingdom proud. He is a good man, however when the ring reflects in his eyes, the easily aroused tint of greed does come to show.

Legolas is unreadable.

Gimli's main motive is to show that the dwarves are just as brave as the elves, hence why he offered to join after Legolas.

The two little trouble making halflings break all the stereotypes of hobbits, as they are keen on adventure.

And I myself am simply just along for the ride.

Well, now that I have shown myself to be quite the clairvoyant, I guess I'll continue on with this cute little fairytale.

"Good! Very good." Boromir remarks as he clanks swords with Pippin, and I egg the halfling on as I shovel food into my mouth. My muscles scream bloody murder from all the mountain hiking, but ofcourse Aragorn seems far from sore as he sits next to me, smoking a pipe.

"Move your feet." He orders, observing the sword practice.

"And shake those hips." I add on.

"Are you a fighter or a dancer?" Aragorn flashes a small smile, as he raises an eyebrow.

"Who says I can't be both?" I reply, standing up and performing an overdramatic arm stretch. "Although I am far better at one over the other, but don't tell anybody. I don't want Robin Hood to represent ballet."

I dont wait for Aragorn's reply as I make my way towards the odd pony which keeps appearing out of nowhere. Apparently it belongs to Sam. He must store it in that massive bag of his, along with half his kitchen.

Honestly though, I am rather thankful that he has brought half his kitchen.

While patting the ponies mane, I let him eat the vegetables left on my plate, because lets be real, those things are hand grown in hell. 

"Robin should teach us some tricks!" I overhear one of the halflings yell.

"That was the deal, wasn't it?" Merry adds on, as both halfings stare at me eagerly.

"Oh don't be so foolish, I assure you that there is nothing she can teach you inwhich I cannot." Boromir replies, sending a challenging glare in my direction. "Besides, why take lessons from a thief when you have a noble soldier at hand?"

This causes my eyebrows to raise and my head to tilt as I lean back and examine my opponent, before making my way in his direction. A smirk sits embedded on his stubbled face, and I can tell that a challenge is what he wants, and a challenge he shall recieve.

"Go easy on him Robin." Merry remarks as I snatch Pippin's sword from his grasp, causing a grin to spread on my face and a short laugh from Boromir.

"That won't be necessary." The man retorts, and from the corner of my eye I spot Aragorn looking on intently.

Our swords clash, and within ten seconds of clanking metal, the blade is dislodged from my grasp. Boromir's face light's up in victory, however fighting with a sword is not my preference.

He goes to press the tip of his blade against my throat, but with the leather bound around my forearms, I knock the blade aside and deliver a hard sidekick to his ribs. This causes Boromir to stumble, and I swiftly dislodge my daggers from my belt, resting them crossed against the front of his throat.

"Was that a warm up or should I be worried for your safety?" I remark, stepping back and smirking at the look of frustration which engraves Boromir's features.

"You are the one we should be worried about, amongst the fact inwhich the ring sits merely a grasp away from the hands of a thief." Boromir retorts, and I place my hand over my heart in mock offense.

"Don't be rude to Robin!" Pippin cries out, stepping forward as he sends a hard kick to Boromir's shin. Merry also retaliates as he swings the sword into the joint of his leg. I burst out in laughter as Boromir falls to the ground, the two hobbits dog piling over the man.

The ordeal brings Aragorn two seconds of amusement, before he stands to break up the brawl, but I am too entertained and I quickly place my foot infront of his, pushing him as he stumbles forward. However, the ranger outsmarts me before he hits the ground, kicking his foot into the joint of my leg and sending me into a faceplant instead. But he doesn't last long, as Merry and Pippin flip him by his feet, and Aragorn ends up laying by my side, the whole lot of us laughing uncontrollably.

But the cheerfulness doesn't last long, as something brewing in the sky catches our attention.

The dark form moves rapidly towards our camp, the shape firstly appearing to be a dark cloud, but then dividing into separate tiny black dots. I scratch my head in confusion.

Mumbles arise from the fellowship as each individual attempts to identify the form, until a certain voice rises over the others.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas calls out in a worried tone, making me assume the dots aren't something to be happy about.

"Hide!"

"Hurry!"

"Shit." I mumble as everybody divides, jumping into bushes and sliding underneath boulders. Without a second thought I roll off the edge of the hill and into the bushes which sit two metres below, cursing as a bunch of sticks dig into my skin. I have no idea of what is happening overhead, but the intense fluttering of what seems to be over a hundred wings gives off the impression that I should probably remain hidden.

One leaf creeps it's way into my nose, and suppressing a sneeze while keeping as still as possible is a lot harder than one would think.

I only dare to move once everything is silent, and as I climb back onto the hill, my eyebrows furrow as no one else is insight.

"Come out come out wherever you are!" I call out, pulling a twig from my hair.

"You lose." I retort as Frodo is the first to emerge.

Everyone slowly gathers back together, both confused and shaken by the previous encounter. The hobbits have wide eyes, Aragorn's face is stern, Gandalf ponders with worry, and I pull the sixth twig out of my hair.

"Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched." Gandalf remarks. "We must take the Pass of Caradhras."

All eyes are drawn upwards to a snowy peak which towers over our campsite, and I groan on behalf of my muscles. If one thing is for sure, it's the fact that I'm going to be toned as hell after this little adventure.

"Anyone want to give me a piggy back?"