Chapter Four
January 1, 3019
With
a miserable shiver, Merry Brandybuck tried to readjust his layers of cloaks
and blankets, but no matter what he did, it seemed that the bitter wind
found new ways of boring through his coverings. His watch was nearing its
end and Legolas would be taking over soon, but at this point, Merry wondered
if he would be able to fall asleep. Considering the way he felt now, he
would probably be awake for Legolas’s watch, Boromir’s watch, Sam’s watch,
and Gandalf’s watch.
Trying
to shake off some of the cold, Merry abruptly stood and started to pace,
hoping that movement would thaw his frozen blood. With effort, he managed
to make his numb, protesting legs obey his commands and carry him about
the camp, weaving an irregular circle around his comrades. The increased
exercise worked for a bit, but eventually, the cold slowed his walking
and he felt winter’s icy fingers once again.
So
distracted was he by his plight that he didn’t notice movement behind until
something dropped onto his shoulders. Startled into jumping, the hobbit
whirled, laid his hand to his sword, and then stopped. "Legolas?"
"If
you did not want the extra cloak, you could have said as much," the elf
told him with a slight smile. "But I thought you would be glad of the gift."
"Oh,
I am!" Merry exclaimed, glancing at his shoulders and discovering that
the elf’s cloak now encircled them. The thin material seemed a surer block
against the wind than all of the hobbit's other coverings, and he felt
his body heat warming the interior of the light covering. "It’s very warm,"
he said with some astonishment.
"Of
course it is warm." Legolas sounded indignant.
"No,
I mean…thank you. Thank you very much. I…won’t you be cold?"
"This
weather does not bother me," Legolas answered casually. "It must be very
cold to affect an elf."
"Well,
it is cold enough to affect a hobbit," Merry said bitterly. "Much too cold
for me, anyway. Will it get warmer soon, do you think?"
The
prince glanced up at the sky where the dark storm clouds that had once
threatened from afar now loomed above the sleeping travelers. "There will
be heavy rain tonight," Legolas finally said. "I fear it will slow our
travels. Beyond that, I cannot tell. The weather is uncertain around the
mountains, and the great peaks have much control. Their favor will be a
telling point, and some of them have no love for elves or dwarves. Dark
is their history and evil their roots. Whatever the weather be now, it
will grow worse ere we make the mountain passes."
"I
think I was looking for something more optimistic," Merry confessed. "What
about beyond the mountains? Surely the weather will be fair further south."
"Perhaps,
but the land will grow in peril and fair weather will avail us not. For
as we move south, every step we take draws us closer to Mordor. In southern
lands, we may wish for this cloud cover to hide us from unfriendly eyes."
"Sam
was right," Merry muttered under his breath. "There needs to be more optimism
on this journey."
With
his sharp ears, Legolas picked up this grumbled comment and laughed. "Alas,
I fear you hobbits have fallen in with grim and dour beings. Gandalf knows
too much and has fought too long, Aragorn is too touched by the Elder race
and too experienced in battling the enemy, Boromir has seen too much and
has loved too little, I have lived too long and have defended my home too
often, and Gimli…Gimli is a dwarf," the elf finished as though that explained
everything.
"Oh."
Merry wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to this, but he did know
one thing. He couldn’t continue to stand in the cold. "So have you come
to relieve me from my watch? It is still early for you to be awake."
"I…felt
something," Legolas said hesitantly. "And I could not sleep. It was…" He
trailed off, unsure as to whether or not he should continue. Ultimately
deciding against it, the elf shook his head and turned back to Merry. "It
does not matter. Do you wish to rest now? I will finish your watch and
then take my own."
"That
does sound good," Merry said. "Do you want your cloak back?"
"Tonight,"
Legolas said. "Until then, may it keep you warm."
"Thank
you," Merry beamed. The gesture touched him and the elven cloak was surprisingly
comfortable. "Well, I guess I will see you tonight. And if you need anything…Strider?"
Merry
stared across the camp as the lanky Ranger rose and stretched. Sensing
eyes upon him, Aragorn turned and frowned when he noted both Legolas and
Merry up. "It is not yet time for your watch, my friend," Aragorn said
to the elf.
"And
you do not have a watch today at all," Legolas answered quietly. Something
caught his attention and he turned his eyes away from Aragorn. "It would
seem that Mithrandir’s sleep is troubled as well." The elf nodded his head
toward the wizard, and Aragorn and Merry watched while Gandalf twitched
awake. Opening his flashing eyes, the wizard’s brow furrowed when he caught
sight of Legolas, Aragorn, and Merry.
"There
is a reason we stop for sleep," Gandalf said, rising and joining the group.
"Why do you not use this time for resting. Even you, Legolas, should not
yet be awake."
"I
have offered to relieve Merry early," the elf explained. "He was just now
retiring for the day."
Merry
blinked, realizing the elf was hinting that now was a good time to leave.
"Yes, that’s right," he quickly said, taking his cue. He didn’t know what
had disturbed Strider or Gandalf, and he realized that he really didn’t
want to know. For now he was quite content to be a simple passenger on
the trip, trusting in their wisdom for his survival. "I’ll be going now.
To sleep, that is. And thank you again, Legolas."
The
elf nodded and watched with Aragorn and Gandalf as the hobbit found a resting
place near the other hobbits, rolled himself up in Legolas’s cloak, and
relaxed as he slipped into a world of dreams. After waiting a few more
minutes, Gandalf turned back to the other two.
"Now,
perhaps you can tell me what is happening," the wizard said, his eyes warning
that evasive answers would not be welcome.
"Dae
prestintin a erion," Legolas said in Sindarin, wary of speaking in
the common tongue for fear that Merry might still be awake. "Law iston,
dan gostan…" The elf trailed off uncertainly and glanced at the Ranger
by his side.
"Ha
i draug," Aragorn said heavily, also using the elven language. "Anglenna
ad."
Gandalf
sighed and nodded. He glanced around the camp and then inclined his head
toward the path the Fellowship had followed the previous night. "Tol."
Picking
up sword and bow as a precaution, Aragorn and Legolas silently followed
the wizard until they were a safe distance away from the others. Glancing
back, Aragorn noticed that Boromir was stirring slightly and felt a pang
of guilt that the man was not included in their conference. He was a warrior
and well aware of the dangers that plagued them. Yet if this could be taken
care of quickly and quietly, it was best that few knew of it. And while
Boromir and Gimli now knew of the Warg, they still did not know how closely
he trailed them. And he was quite close. Dangerously close.
"He
must be eliminated," Gandalf said without further preamble, obviously sharing
Aragorn’s thoughts on the matter. "Or if he is not eliminated, we must
prevent him from contacting a pack. His motives may have nothing to do
with us, but we cannot afford to take that chance."
"He
is alone and wary, though," Aragorn pointed out quietly. "He will not be
easy to take. Legolas tried late last night, and he slipped away from him.
How shall the rest of us hunt a wolf that can hear even the approach of
an elf?"
"Perhaps
I was too eager and not careful enough," Legolas offered. "Another attempt
could be made, or we could bait a trap for him."
"A
Warg would not fall for a simple trap, nor can we take the time to fashion
one and lie in wait," Gandalf stated. "We must lure him into the open and
then we must hunt him."
"What
do you suggest?" Aragorn asked.
"A
simple plan," the wizard answered. "It is dangerous but no more so than
journeying further with a Warg on our trail. However, it will involve splitting
the Fellowship. One group will travel ahead while another group travels
behind. The wolf will either be split between the two groups or will try
to cut one group off. Aragorn, you will lead Boromir, Pippin, Merry, and
Gimli in the first group. Legolas, Frodo, Sam, the pony, and I will follow
you but we will stay at least one hundred meters behind you. Hopefully,
our hunting friend will reveal himself in this, and when he does, we must
be ready."
"How
will we coordinate between the two groups?" Legolas wondered. "For when
one party gives chase, the other must be informed if we are able to drive
him."
"And
what of mishap? What if someone in the latter group was to meet with some
accident along the way? How would you tell those of us in the first group
without further endangering the Ring-bearer?" Aragorn added.
"As
I said before, the plan is dangerous. But I see no other way to draw this
creature into the open. Currently, he may hunt us at his leisure for we
stay together and have no feasible means of hiding our trail from him.
He has the advantage, and unless we change our habits, he will continue
to have the advantage." Gandalf sighed and shook his head. "If either of
you have a better idea, now is the time to present it. In the absence of
an alternative, though, I move that we create a system of signals whereby
we can communicate between groups."
"Whistles?"
Aragorn questioned.
"Perhaps.
Smoke and flares, also, would work. But however it is done, it must be
in such a way that we do not attract the attention of other spies. If we
can avoid the Enemy up until reaching the mountains passes, our chances
are greatly improved."
"Whistles
then," Aragorn said with a glance at Legolas. The elf nodded in agreement.
"We
have used such signals before with success," the prince said. "Shall we
change our system?"
"No,"
Aragorn said after a moment of thought. "It is doubtful that the enemy
will have taken the time to understand hunting whistles used occasionally
by some of the Mirkwood elves."
"Then
may I suggest you rest, Aragorn?" Legolas said. "The Warg may be near,
but he is mad if he thinks to attack on my watch. At least for now, you
can sleep without fear."
"And
that is a luxury we will not have for much longer," Gandalf predicted ominously.
"Well then, Aragorn and I must seek such rest as we may find on this dark
day. But keep your bow at the ready, Legolas. He may grow bold while we
slumber, and if you are offered a shot, be ready to take it."
"Trust
in the bolts of the elves," Legolas promised with a tight smile, pulling
an arrow from his quiver and sighting along its smooth, straight shaft.
"Long have my people hunted the fell demons and beasts of the Misty Mountains.
If this Warg dares to show himself, it will be his last appearance."
*****
The
afternoon was cold and cheerless, and despite his fur-lined cloak, Boromir
found himself shivering in the chilly air. As silent as a stone sentinel,
he stood on the edge of camp, watching the surrounding forest with the
habitual wariness of a soldier. Before lying down to sleep, Legolas had
warned him that the trailing Warg had crept close to camp this day, but
the elf felt that the wolf had departed not long before Boromir rose. For
his part, Boromir accepted this information with a nod and secret doubts.
He was coming to trust the elf’s superior senses, but the voice of his
inborn suspicion concerning other races was difficult to ignore. Whatever
Aragorn’s feelings on the subject might be, Boromir was far more inclined
to trust in the wisdom and judgement of man than in the intuition and insight
of the elves.
Speaking
of Aragorn…
The
son of Gondor’s ruling steward glanced over at the Ranger. To his surprise,
he found Aragorn looking back at him. Boromir blinked but gave no other
sign that he was startled. Aragorn smiled slightly as though he knew his
gaze was disturbing and rose.
"It
is a cold day," he said quietly.
"It
is," Boromir responded in kind. He was not about to ask what purpose Aragorn
had in rising. If the Ranger wish to share that information, so be it.
But Denethor’s son was not going to beg for it.
"Your
watch has passed quietly," Aragorn continued, joining the other man on
the edge of the camp.
"You
speak as though you have been awake for much of it." Boromir told himself
that this was not asking for information but merely demonstrating his ability
for insight. True, it opened the door for Aragorn to explain why he was
awake, but at least Boromir had not come right out and demanded the reasons
for the Ranger’s actions. In any case, he did not think himself capable
of demanding anything from this man, and to ask was to show weakness. But
why cannot I demand things of him? Boromir suddenly wondered. Am
I not heir to the rule of Gondor and the staff of the steward? Am I not
second in the council of Minas Tirith, submissive only to my father? Who
is Aragorn that I should fear him so?
"In
truth, I have been awake since the beginning of Legolas’s watch," Aragorn
answered, heedless of Boromir’s thoughts. "He told you of the Warg, but
he did not tell you that the Warg’s presence woke him from his sleep before
his scheduled watch. It also woke Gandalf and myself. I have been reluctant
to sleep since."
Boromir
frowned. "I was not aware of this creature."
"You
have not hunted Wargs before. They have a…a feel about them. They are as
shadows creeping upon your mind, and in daylight it is easier to sense
their approach. But only those who have fought them are truly aware of
them." Aragorn folded his arms across his chest and studied the dark woods
touched by frost. "I am surprised Gimli did not wake, though perhaps he
has not had cause to fight the wolves as his fathers did."
"It
is a mystery to me that something in the north can be as much of a threat
as the minions that issue forth from the Black Gate where Minas Tirith
stands guard."
"As
I said before at the Council, Boromir, Minas Tirith does not guard all
roads, and the Enemy has many allies. Think of the fortress of Dol Goldur.
For years, Sauron ruled southern Mirkwood from its fastness and Gondor
was powerless to stop it. Nor could Gondor anticipate the treachery of
Saruman and it cannot now guard against his minions that may breed at Isengard.
The world is wider than you think, Boromir. Gondor is great, but Mordor
is greater still."
Boromir
was silent at this, considering Aragorn’s words. And it bothered him that
he could not refute their logic. His pride in his country demanded that
he rise to defend it, but how could he argue against such facts? Once more,
he considered this man who stood next to him and possessed the alleged
sword of Isildur. Not even in Rivendell had Boromir given much credence
to the myth of Aragorn’s genealogy, but now…
"Tonight
we are trying to draw the wolf out," Aragorn said, abruptly changing the
topic much to Boromir’s relief. "We will split the Fellowship into two
groups. You and I will lead Gimli, Merry, and Pippin ahead while the rest
lag behind. Hopefully we will force the wolf to reveal himself in his attempts
to track all of us. Legolas and I have a system of whistles that we have
used before in similar maneuvers. That should serve us well now."
"Is
it prudent to separate?" Boromir questioned before he could stop himself.
"We would leave the latter group with no protection."
Aragorn’s
eyebrows shot up. "No protection? They will have Gandalf and Legolas. What
better protection could you desire in these dark forests? Even an army
of the Last Alliance would do no better than the combined forces of a wood
elf and a wizard."
"I
hope your trust is not misplaced," Boromir said quietly. "But remember
that they are not men. They are not our kind." And with that, Boromir strode
away, vanishing into the trees before Aragorn could fashion a response.
*****
Frodo
woke to a small commotion that was steadily growing in volume and chaos.
The scuffle of feet and the ring of an axe quickly drew his attention,
and he sat up with a start, reaching instinctively for Sting. When he saw
what was happening, he sighed and rubbed his eyes, wondering at the counsel
of Elrond in putting an elf and a dwarf in the same company. Elrond himself
was part elf. He should have known better.
Legolas
and Gimli glared at one another from opposite ends of the camp with Gandalf
and Aragorn restraining the elf while Boromir, Merry, and Pippin held Gimli
back. The dwarf’s axe had been wrested from him and lay near Frodo, but
that did not prevent Gimli from continually lunging at the elf who, for
his part, was trying equally hard to get at the dwarf. "What is happening?"
Frodo whispered.
"Quite
a story to be sure, Mr. Frodo," a voice from behind answered.
Frodo
turned around and studied Sam’s thoughtful face. "Do you know how this
started?"
The
other hobbit shuffled his feet and nodded. "More or less. I was making
breakfast ready and Strider had just come back from scouting. Legolas was
awake and he was doing something with his arrows when Gimli made some comment
or other about Thraunduil and elven women. I don’t know exactly what it
was that he said, but Legolas went all silent and then he rose and said
something about Gloin screaming in Mirkwood’s dungeons. I guess he was
referring to old Mr. Bilbo’s story, but I don’t rightly know. Well, then
Gimli lunged and Legolas lunged right back. Strider tried to break them
apart and then Gandalf and Boromir were there and before I knew it, Merry
and Pippin were pulling Gimli back with Boromir and Legolas was over there
with Strider and Gandalf."
"Oh."
Frodo wasn’t quite sure what else to say.
"It’s
such a shame it woke you," Sam continued. "You were sleeping peacefully
at last, Mr. Frodo, but then this happened and there wasn’t anything I
could do about it and…"
"Forget
it, Sam," Frodo sighed. "It’s time I was up anyway."
By
now, Aragorn’s constant talking to Legolas had calmed the elf to the point
where he could be released, and Gimli was no longer jerking against Boromir’s
firm grasp so he had also been let go. But neither one moved a step and
continued to glare at each other across the camp.
"Gandalf?"
Aragorn’s
deep voice cut a path through the tension, but no one relaxed. The wizard
he had addressed continued to watch Legolas closely until the elf finally
turned and met his gaze. Something passed between the two, but whatever
it was did not agree with the elven prince. With a final glare at Gimli,
he turned and stalked back to his bow and quiver, anger resonating from
him as heat from a fire. Gandalf next turned to Gimli and held his eyes
for the span of a few seconds. The dwarf shuddered, grumbled something
in his own tongue, and turned away, retrieving his axe and moving to the
edge of the forest.
"Perhaps
it is best if we take breakfast on the trail this evening," Aragorn suggested
quietly.
Gandalf
nodded and turned his dark eyes toward Sam. "Can this be arranged, Master
Samwise?"
Quailing
beneath the wizard’s gaze, Sam nodded hurriedly. A brief smile from Gandalf
relaxed the poor gardener and Sam was able to formulate words to accompany
his nod. "I can put a walking breakfast together and it won’t take more
than a minute."
"Thank
you," Gandalf said, softening his eyes and attempting to further calm the
hobbit. When Sam smiled back in return, the wizard nodded and then turned
his eyes to the rest of the group. "While breakfast is being prepared for
us, I will tell you what the plan is for tonight. We are departing from
our normal procedure, for I fear we may be followed. If this is so, hopefully
we can draw our pursuers into the open with this strategy. Aragorn and
Boromir will take Gimli, Pippin, and Merry on ahead. The second group,
comprising Frodo, Sam, Legolas, and myself, will depart shortly afterward.
Because we will be in small groups, it is essential that everyone has their
weapons at the ready." Gandalf glanced around the group to see if he still
had everyone’s attention. Pippin appeared to be daydreaming and the wizard
fixed a dark glare on him until the hobbit came back to the present and
wilted beneath Gandalf’s baleful look. With a grunt of satisfaction, Gandalf
nodded. "Let us be off, then. Aragorn, Boromir, you and your group are
first. We will follow after."
Aragorn
shouldered his small pack, for Rangers traveled lightly and he had brought
few provisions, and started off into the forest, glancing back to see that
Boromir, Pippin, Merry, and Gimli were following. Boromir would not make
eye contact with him, but he did follow, taking up rearguard as Merry and
Pippin took position between the two men. Gimli walked alongside Aragorn
and ere long, they had vanished into the trees.
With
a sigh of frustration, Gandalf shook his head and turned to the remainder
of the Fellowship. The wizard had not missed the new tension between Aragorn
and Boromir that materialized sometime during the night, but he hoped they
could forget whatever quarrel lay between them. He was more hopeful of
their getting along than he was of a certain elf and dwarf. This was further
confirmed when he caught a glimpse of something in Legolas’s hand. The
elf concealed it quickly when he sensed the wizard’s eyes on him, but Gandalf
saw enough to recognize what it was the elf hid. Gimli would be missing
his pipe tonight.
"How
long shall we wait?" Frodo asked. He had also seen the stolen pipe but
was unsure if broaching the subject was a safe move.
"We
do not want them to draw too far ahead, but neither do we want to be just
behind them," Gandalf answered. "We shall a quarter of an hour and then
follow. That should give Aragorn enough time to find the proper trails
and draw the attention of any pursuit that may be watching us."
"What
do think is watching us?" Sam asked with a shiver, glancing at the surrounding
forest.
"I
have my suspicions, but night is not a good time to hear talk of fell things,"
Gandalf said evasively.
"I
do not think we are watched now," Legolas said slowly. He stood apart from
the others and scanned the forest quietly, using both eyes and ears to
map out the surroundings. "All seems quiet and peaceful for the moment.
It has been so since I woke."
Gandalf
nodded to acknowledge the hidden message. The Warg had not been here in
the morning. Where it went to was anyone’s guess, but it had not been around
camp and it was not here now.
They
waited a bit longer, the silence broken only by the swishing of Bill’s
tail and an ominous rumble of thunder overhead. Upon hearing the thunder,
Sam had grumbled something under his breath and started digging through
his heavy pack. Gandalf had been unable to catch all Sam’s words, but he
had heard a mild curse about the rain. Raising his eyes to the cloud-covered
sky, he silently acknowledged the truth of Sam’s prediction. It would rain
tonight.
After
a few more minutes of waiting, during which anther rumble of thunder was
heard, Gandalf stood. "Let us go," he said quietly. "The others have been
given enough time. Stay close and stay alert. We may see things tonight."
And
with these foreboding words echoing in their minds, Frodo and Sam rose
and followed Gandalf, leaving Legolas to walk in back, a guard in the dark
against any that might walk behind them. A flash of light lit the sky as
they left the camp, and crack of thunder shook the ground. Murmuring a
curse of his own, Gandalf pulled his cloak tighter around himself and picked
up the pace.
*****
They
had been traveling for the space of about four hours in silence, having
seen nothing and felt nothing, when they heard a faint whistling like unto
a bird. It was difficult to hear above the howling of the wind, which had
risen in force as the clouds gathered, but it was discernable. Gandalf
glanced back at Legolas who had stopped at the whistle and cocked his head.
The wind whipped his hair about his face, but he ignored it as the whistle
came again. "They have found something," the elf eventually said, looking
at Gandalf. "They are stopping to investigate."
"Was
that Aragorn then?" Sam asked, huddling against Bill’s side as the wind
wailed about them.
"It
was," Gandalf said shortly. He watched the forest closely and then turned
back to Legolas. "How far away would you say they are?"
"Perhaps
half a mile," the elf estimated. "He says the shadow lies between us."
"That
would explain it," Gandalf said to himself. "Tell him we feel it also but
not to pursue. Let us lull it into a false sense of security. Perhaps it
will grow bolder."
Legolas
nodded and lifted his head to answer, but at that moment, a terrible crash
of thunder bore down on them and at that signal, the clouds dropped their
load of rain. Bill reared in fright and Sam seized the lead rein, struggling
to bring the pony under control. Frodo raced to help him, but it wasn’t
until Legolas stepped in and sang soft words to the horse, barely audible
beneath the torrent of rain, that the pony calmed. Dripping wet, Sam and
Frodo collapsed and huddled together.
"This
rain would be better if I could watch it through a window," Sam muttered
miserably. Frodo nodded wordlessly beside him and shivered as cold water
began soaking through all his outer coverings.
"We
will never catch him in this," Legolas called to Gandalf, pushing wet hair
out of his eyes and keeping a firm hold on Bill’s halter.
"We
must regroup," Gandalf said, tipping his head and watching as water poured
off the brim of his hat. "Frodo! Sam! Come. We must rejoin the others."
Slipping
and sliding in the mud, Frodo and Sam hurried after Gandalf, trying to
stay close enough to see him through the curtain of falling water. Legolas
followed after them, leading Bill behind him and stopping often to persuade
the pony onward.
To
Frodo and Sam, it seemed as though they walked forever through the blinding
wall of rain. Gandalf’s gray cloak vanished and appeared before them sporadically
as the wizard wound his way through dripping underbrush. They could no
longer see Legolas or Bill behind them and Gandalf seemed to be drawing
further ahead. Leaning against one another for support, they struggled
to move faster. They were conscious of Gandalf turning and waiting for
them once, but they were not allowed to rest. The wizard was in haste,
for this rain would wash away all evidence of the other group’s trail and
if they had turned aside, they would be nearly impossible to find.
A shrill
whistle suddenly shot up from their left, freezing the small group in its
tracks. "Aragorn!" Gandalf called hopefully, trying to make himself heard
above the wind and the rain. There was no answer but in pausing to wait
for one, they stood long enough that Legolas was able to catch up, leading
a miserable pony behind him.
"They
are this way," Legolas shouted, moving off to the left. "Aragorn has found
shelter."
"Shelter?"
Sam wondered. "In these woods? With rain like this, it better be a house
at least."
"I
shall be thankful that we are all together again," Frodo mumbled, wrapping
his cloak tighter around himself.
"Hurry,"
Gandalf told the hobbits, moving behind them. "Follow Legolas."
Quickly
obeying his instructions, the hobbits raced after the elf, who proved even
harder to follow than Gandalf. Were it not for Bill sinking deep into the
mud at times and leaving hoof prints, they might have become lost, for
Legolas left very little imprint and blended well with his surroundings,
making him almost impossible to see. Still, they managed somehow, and with
Gandalf’s constant encouragement behind them and Legolas stopping now and
then to encourage Bill before them, they eventually crashed into a small
clearing.
"Aragorn!"
Legolas cried, spotting a figure on the other side.
"This
way," the Ranger called back, disappearing into the woods. Legolas hurried
after him and the hobbits slid after the elf with Gandalf picking up the
rear and watching the dark forest behind them. After another few minutes
of harsh travel through the storm, Legolas disappeared into a copse of
trees. Hoping this was the shelter Aragorn had found, Sam and Frodo rushed
after him. They found themselves with the remainder of the Fellowship in
the middle of many trees that grew so close together their branches were
laced one with another. It was far from Sam’s idea of a shelter, but when
compared with the outside world, it was cheerful and cozy. The thick branches
and leaves overhead diverted part of the rain and here the company huddled
together, listening as thunder continued to roar around them. Gandalf pushed
his way through the trees and joined them after another minute.
"We
will have to try again tomorrow night," Aragorn sighed as Gandalf approached.
"It does not seem likely that this storm will pass before morning."
"It
is very likely that we will camp here," Gandalf agreed. "The storm may
pass by morning, but I fear another will follow. Can you think of other
places of refuge we might pass that lie close to this?"
Aragorn
glanced around as though trying to get his exact bearings. "There is a
small stream not far from here," he finally said. "Along one bank, is has
carved a small cave out of the rocks, but it is not large enough to hold
all of us."
"If
it holds only the baggage, that would be something," Gandalf said. "We
will need dry clothes if we are to survive. And we could rotate turns within
the cave. How long will it take to reach?"
"Five,
maybe six hours," Aragorn guessed.
"Then
let us head for that tomorrow night," Gandalf decided. "For now, let us
prepare to wait out the storm here and also so spend the day. It is the
weather and not Sauron who has beaten us today."
*****
Water
was running in rivulets through Gimli’s beard and down his back. He had
managed to find a rock up out of the mud on which to set his pack and was
sheltering some of his pipe-weed from the rain in the hopes that it would
dry. Pippin had managed to get his pipe started and Gimli was now looking
for his own, feeling that the pipe-weed had dried sufficiently for him
to light it. Unfortunately, his pipe didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.
Starting
to worry that perhaps he had left it somewhere, Gimli went through his
pack again but still with no success. His pipe was simply not there. Perhaps
he had left it. The dwarf went through his evening packing activities,
trying to recall if he’d done anything specific to the pipe. And actually,
he had. He’d been smoking it when he’d implied that Legolas was an illegitimate
son. And after Legolas had said that prison bit about his father Gloin,
he’d lunged, he’d had his pipe in hand, he though he remembered it being
knocked from him, and after that…hadn’t Legolas stooped to pick something
up just as Gimli’s group had left camp?
With
a gleam of suspicion in his dwarven eyes, Gimli straightened and turned
to find Legolas. He spotted the elf near the pony, stroking its neck and
speaking soft words. The animal was still agitated and the continuing thunder
that rolled above them was not helping matters. Through narrowed eyes,
the dwarf watched the two, searching for any sign that the elf had taken
his pipe. And he soon found what he was looking for.
Literally.
The
end of his pipe could be seen peaking out of the top of Legolas’s pack,
which was slung over the pony’s neck. With an angry glower, Gimli stalked
over, startling both Legolas and Bill, and seized the pipe. Turning on
the elf, he caught a flash of merriment in the prince’s bright gray eyes
before it was quickly replaced by alarm as Gimli lunged.
Aragorn,
Gandalf, Boromir, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry, and Bill the pony all watched
and time seemed to slow. Gimli leaped for the elf, Legolas started to slide
out of the way as he had before, and then the unthinkable happened. Legolas’s
left foot slipped in a puddle. Down he went, arms pinwheeling madly as
he struggle to regain his balance. He landed hard, but Gimli landed harder
and the elf grunted in pain as the dwarf’s heavy frame drove all air from
his lungs. Time then abruptly resumed its normal pace and the rest of the
Fellowship, recovering from the shock of seeing an elf off balance, threw
themselves at the struggling forms.
By
the time they were finished, Bill was snorting on the other side of their
shelter, Merry’s cloak had ripped, Pippin though a tooth was loose, Sam
was spitting mud, Frodo was marveling that the Ring was still on its chain,
Gandalf’s staff was missing, Boromir was trying to clear his horn of muddy
water, Aragorn was dizzy, Gimli couldn’t stand, Legolas’s bow needed a
new bow string, and the elf himself was incensed, furious, embarrassed,
and affronted as only a young elven prince can be.
"That
was different," Merry commented, staring up at the trees from his position
in the mud.
"I
could do with fewer differences," Pippin muttered, playing with his tooth.
"But
we were taught to celebrate our differences."
Legolas
struggled to his feet, dripping with mud and water. Flashing eyes the color
of dark storm clouds sought out the dwarf and for a small moment, Gimli
was afraid. "You…" the elf started, his voice low and dangerous, brimming
with hatred and promises of vengeance.
"Not
now!" Aragorn interrupted firmly, recovering enough to also get to his
feet though he swayed slightly. "We will deal with this later. Both of
you!" he added with a warning glance for the dwarf.
"Would
it be possible to enjoy just one peaceful day?" Frodo asked quietly, rubbing
the back of his head where he thought he felt a bump forming. "It’s already
raining. Must we really make the situation worse?"
"The
hobbit speaks wisely," Boromir said. "I for one would like to enjoy a moment
of peace without worrying about the spies of the enemy hearing or seeing
incidents such as these."
"Let
us set the watches," Gandalf said wearily, finally finding his staff partially
buried in the thick mud. "Aragorn, would you join me for the first and
second watch? I have much I would discuss with you."
"Of
course," the Ranger answered, wishing the world would stop spinning around
him.
"Frodo,
you will follow us. Pippin and Gimli, you have the last two. I suggest
you all try to rest, even though the elements are not favorable at this
time."
"Well,
seeing as I’m already as muddy as I’ve ever been, I think I’ll just sleep
here," Sam sighed, propping his head up on a rock and ignoring the squelching
sound made by his body as he shifted to find a comfortable position.
"How
can you do that, Sam?" Pippin asked with some amazement.
Frodo’s
gardener thought about that for a moment before shrugging. "I don’t rightly
know. All I really know is that I’m exhausted and nothing is going to stand
between me and a good sleep. Not even you, Mr. Pippin."
"Hold
onto that thought," Frodo recommended, settling down next to him. "There
will probably be places worse than this on the journey ahead."
"Thank
you for that optimistic thought," Merry said with a sleepy yawn. "I’m sure
we shall all rest better now."
"You
are welcome," Frodo murmured, closing his eyes and, despite the cold and
wet, managing to fall into a dreamless slumber almost immediately.
Dae prestintin a erion. Law iston, dan gostan…— Something disturbed me and I rose. I do not know, but I fear…
Ha i draug. Anglenna ad—It is the wolf. He approaches again.
Tol—Come.