The One Hour Fellowship Writing Challenge
Tog by onónë
Gandalf walked in front, and with him went Aragorn,
who knew this land even in the dark. The others were in file behind,
Legolas whose eyes were keen was the rearguard. The first part of their
was hard and dreary, and Frodo remembered little of it, save the wind.
many sunless days an icy blast came from the Mountains in the east, and
garment seemed able to keep out its searching fingers.
Sam looked up at Boromir walking a few paces ahead
of him. He still felt awkward around this man. He had gotten used to
after all, Strider was the one who had saved Master Frodo from the
Riders on Weathertop. And Strider was friends with the elves. And
Sam was sure, had a sense of humor. But Boromir, so tall and serious
proud… Sam wasn't sure what to think of him.
Sam's foot caught in a tree root and brought his
thoughts back to his surroundings. He pulled his cloak around him even
and quickened his pace to catch up with the other hobbits in front of
Merry and Pippin were walking just in front of
Boromir. They had been silent for quite a while, each occupied with his
thoughts. Then Pippin looked up from the path, reached over and tapped
on the shoulder.
Merry looked at him and kept walking. He wasn't
really in the mood for games. He was cold, and all he could think about
a nice warm fire and half a pint of the Gaffer's home brew.
"Tig!" Pippin did it again. Merry shoved back. "Tog."
Pippin bopped Merry on the head. "Tog, tig!"
Merry retaliated: "Tig, tog!"
Pippin giggled and Merry laughed out loud. He was still cold and tired,
but not so gloomy as he had been before.
Sam had caught up with them and hit Pippin on the
shoulder. The three went at it full force. Pippin tig-tigged Sam; Sam
Merry; Merry tog-tigged Sam; Sam tagged Pippin.
"What are you doing?" Frodo turned around in time to see Pippin
"We're playing a game," said Merry.
"I wish I could play, but I haven't the heart,"
Frodo sighed. "I can't seem to get rid of this terrible heavy feeling
me - this sense of doom and danger. On top of that, I'm cold and tired
hungry and my feet hurt." His shoulders sagged and he hung his head
Sam's heart bled for Frodo. He looked so tired,
so forlorn. What had happened to his master's merry laugh that he
echoing around the passages of Bag End? Sam sighed, too. He didn't feel
playing games any more. A gust of wind made him pull his cloak around
even tighter. The world seemed dark and cold and ominous again.
Pippin looked at Frodo walking dejectedly in front
of him. He was sorry for Frodo. What had happened to all the fun and
they had together? Pippin could remember countless times of frivolity
merrymaking at the Green Dragon before all this Ring business had
He wished those times were back. He wished he could do something to
Frodo up. A very small thought started forming. He hurried so he was
next to Frodo.
Frodo looked up, startled out of his introspection. Pippin tapped his
shoulder again. "Tig."
Something in Pippin's bright eyes appealed to Frodo
- something saying, "Come on. You know you want to! It'll be fun!"
reached over and gave Pippin a small, apologetic shove. "Tig."
Merry caught up with them. "Tag!"
Frodo tagged Merry back. A small smile toyed with the corners of his
Merry tig-togged Pippin. Pippin tig-tigged Frodo. Frodo hit Sam, "Tig,
"No, no, Frodo!" Pippin corrected. "You can't tig tog Sam if he hasn't
tig tagged you yet."
"Oh," Frodo said. "I guess this game had more rules than I thought. Can
you teach me?"
Pippin and Merry exchanged mischievous glances. "Sure!" Merry answered.
For the next hour, the four hobbits walked along,
not minding the wind, not thinking about the danger that lay in their
not thinking about tired feet and weary bones.
"Tag!" "Tig, tag, tog!" "Tog, tig!" "Tig, tog!" "Tog, tog!" "Tig, tig!"
"No, no, Frodo! You can't double-tig Pippin on a tog-tog!"
Boromir watched the four hobbits in front of him
with curiosity. He admitted he did not know much about the halflings
their ways. Nevertheless he was amazed to see them so carefree and
at such a time. His thoughts drifted back to more innocent days when he
Faramir would play in the fields. They would pretend to sword-fight.
always won. He had to. Even then, he took his sword very seriously.
Faramir hadn't cared. Faramir, he thought, would like these hobbits.
"Tig, tag!" "Tog, tig!"
"No, Frodo! You can't tog-tig unless Merry tig-tags
you first and then you can only tog-tig Sam unless Pippin is walking in
of you at the time and then you can do it to him!"
"Tog, tig, tag!" "Tig!" "Tag, tog!"