Chapter One

The Search for Hobbits

"Cormamin niuve tenna'... ta Elea lle au'..." (My heart shall weep... until it sees thee again)

Arwen fell limp against Aragorn.

"Namarie, Arwen," Legolas said quietly, tears running down his and Gimli's face as Aragorn's weeping echoed through the glade. "Quel esta." (Rest well)

That had been the only thought in Aragorn's mind for over a day. As Legolas, him and Gimli pushed on, all he could think about was Arwen. He quickly brought his hand to his face to wipe away the tears that threatened to spill out. He couldn't continue grieving like this.

He quickly ran to catch up with Legolas and Gimli. For the past three days, they had been tracking the band of Uruk-Hai that had taken Merry and Pippin. So far they had made good progress.

Aragorn dropped to the ground, his ear pressed against the bare rock, listening for any sounds or ground movement.

"Their pace has quickened," said Aragorn, suddenly. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!"

Legolas turned to Gimli. "Come on, Gimli."

Gimli stops, breathing heavily. "Three days and nights pursuit. No food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry, but what bare rock can tell."

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli sped across the plains, looking for any sign of Merry and Pippin.

As they reached a rocky crag, Aragorn suddenly bent to the ground. He turned to Legolas, who now stood alongside him. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." In his hand he held Pippin's Elven broach.

Legolas's eyes shone with hope. "They may yet be alive."

Aragorn nodded. "Less than a day ahead of us. Come."

"Come, Gimli. We're gaining on them," Legolas called as he ran after Aragorn.

Gimli huffed and puffed as he ran. He yelled to Legolas, "I'm wasted on cross-country. We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances."

They finally reached the end of the crag and came out into the open. They walked a few steps out into the open and looked around.

"Rohan. Home of the horse lords," Aragorn said as he looked around. "There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures. Sets its will against us."

Legolas ran ahead to scout the terrain.

"Legolas!" Aragorn called. "What do your elf eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn north-east," Legolas replied, seeing a cloud of dust in the distance. His eyes widened. "They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saruman!" Aragorn whispered, his face grim. He knew very well what awaited the Hobbits there. His face hardened. "But he will not turn us back."

They kept following the tracks, which were beginning to dissipate.

Gimli huffed and puffed as he ran. "Keep breathing! That's the key. Breathe."

"They run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them," Legolas commented to Aragorn as they ran.

When first light touched the few clouds in the dim sky, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had already started again. They made better progress now that they had rest and eaten.

"A red sun rises," Legolas said as he looked around. "Blood has been spilled this night."

As they stood there, they suddenly heard the whinnying of horses. Aragorn suddenly grabbed Legolas and Gimli and pulled them into the group of rocks. A few seconds later, a group of a hundred or so riders came galloping past. They sped down the grassy hill; spears in hand and shields on their arms. They had just passed when Aragorn stepped out into the open and called, "Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"

With amazing skill they wheeled their steeds around and came charging back towards them. Soon Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli found themselves in a ring of horsemen moving in a circle, behind them and down, round and round, and drawing inwards.

Suddenly the Riders halted. A round wall of spears was pointed towards them. One rode forward. He advanced until the point of his spear was pointed at Aragorn's chest.

"What business is an Elf, a Man and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" he demanded. After a couple minutes of silence, he said with impatience, "Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli said to the man.

Handing his spear to a soldier, the man dismounted and approached Gimli. "I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.

Faster than the eye could see, Legolas drew, notched and aimed an arrow at the man. The Riders responded by drawing in closer with their spears.

"You would die before your stroke fell," Legolas replied, with anger in his voice.

Aragorn quickly pushed Legolas's bow aside, turning to face the man.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm. We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden your king."

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin," the man said as he removed his helmet. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that we are banished. The white wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

"We are no spies," Aragorn replied. "We track a pack of Uruk-Hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night," the man said.

"But there were two hobbits," Gimli interjected. "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," Aragorn said quietly.

We left none alive," the man replied. "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

Smoke could be seen rising in the distance, over several hills.

"Dead?" Gimli asked.

The man nodded. "I am sorry." He let out a whistle. "Hasufel, Arod."

Two horses walked over to him, one a deep brown, the other a pure white.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters," the man said. "Farewell."

The man mounted his horse and turned to Aragorn. "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." He turned to his men. "We ride north!"

The Rohirrim galloped away to the north. Aragorn mounted Hasufel and Legolas lifted Gimli onto the back of Arod; then mounted himself. They then rode towards the smoke.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli found a pile of smouldering Orc bodies. A gruesome Orc-head was impaled on a stake. Aragorn and Legolas scanned the area, while Gimli dug through the pile with his axe.

Gimli suddenly turned to Aragorn. In his hand, he held a charred belt and sword sheath.

"It's one of their wee belts," Gimli said, grief evident in his voice.

"Hiro hyn hidh ab 'wanath," (May they find peace after death) Legolas whispered.

Aragorn kicked a stray helmet and fell to his knees with a scream of rage and sorrow. He lent his face on his clenched fists.

"We've failed them," Gimli said.

Aragorn looked closely at a patch of ground in front of him. He started to make out what had happened during the previous night's massacre.

"A hobbit lay here." He looked further. "And the other." He made out some strange markings in the grass. "They crawled. Their hands were bound."

He walked a couple feet and picked up some pieces of rope. "Their bonds were cut." Aragorn continued to follow the marks on the ground. "They ran over here; they were followed."

"The tracks lead away from the battle." Aragorn suddenly stopped. "Into Fangorn Forest."

"Fangorn!" Gimli muttered. "What madness drove them in there?"

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