Chapter Eighteen: Into Fangorn's Clutches
When I saw the black smoke rising on the horizon, my anguish was nearly choking. The Riders of Rohan had set alight the bodies of the Uruk-hai, and the chances of the Hobbits survival were becoming less and less as we rode closer.
The stench of the burning carcasses met my nose as we neared the site – a small hill of burnt grass. Bodies had been piled and set on fire; bits of flesh on skeletons and strewn armour and weaponry were all that remained now. I felt like I might vomit, but I did not. Anwyl seemed to feel my unease, for she whinnied sorrowfully as Aragorn leaped from his horse and searched the remains alongside Legolas. I dismounted Anwyl carefully, but it was useless.
The Hobbits were nowhere to be found.
I fell to my knees in horror and pain as the reality of their deaths set in. Never would they return again to their beloved Shire, slain at the hands of the ruthless Uruk-hai! I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the mode of their death. They might have been tortured…I stood up shakily, unwilling to think of anything at all. Merry and Pippin were dead, and we had no way of knowing if Frodo and Sam were alive either. And if they died, especially Frodo, then all hope would be lost…
I stumbled over a carcass and landed hard on the ground. I pushed myself upright, disgusted. I needed to get away from here before I succumbed to my debilitating grief. As I staggered down the hill, I heard the others call after me in concern, but I did not answer them or look behind me. It felt like an invisible hand was drawing me downward toward the monstrous and mysterious Fangorn. I stumbled again, but this time I stayed where I had fallen on the ground. My arm shrieked with pain, and dark blotches danced in front of my eyes as I lay still on the grass. My mind was numb. I could not move. It was like I had been struck by lightning.
I'm not proud to say I panicked. I wrenched my head to one side, clawing the grass like a wild animal. And this was the moment when I saw it.
Flashing a bright green and illuminant silver in the midday sun, a Lórien leaf lay curled on the trampled grass. I vaguely heard a horse galloping in my direction, but I could not look away from the image on the grass. Surely it was an illusion, a mirage of the mind? I stretched my hand out toward it, and when my fingers closed around its cool roundness, I knew that it was indeed real.
I stared at it in wonder, half expecting it might disappear at any moment.
Footsteps sounded nearby, and hands grasped my shoulders, roughly pulling me upright.
"Amira!" It was Ehlon, looking at me with wild eyes. The leaf had dropped to the ground, but it seemed she had not noticed.
"They're alive…" I whispered, slumping to the ground again when she let go of my shoulders.
Her eyes widened instantly, and her expression told me that she thought I was delusional.
"Ehlon, look!" I cried softly in triumph, holding up the Lórien leaf. She reached out quickly, turning it over and over in her hands. Her face registered shock and disbelief.
I felt my numbness fading as relief fell over me. "They're alive, Ehlon! One of them must have dropped it as they fled!"
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli appeared at her side, and they were struck mute when they saw what was in her hand. In the next instant, Aragorn was searching the trampled grass.
"A hobbit lay here…and here, another," he said, gingerly touching the ground. He moved again, "…They crawled. Their hands were bound." He picked up a piece of rope, turning it over in his hands. "Their bonds were cut! They ran over here…" Aragorn moved a few feet away. "They were followed, and then…then here…The tracks lead away from the battle!"
Without another word, he moved quickly down the hillside toward the Fangorn.
Legolas smiled at me quickly. "There is still hope!" he murmured, moving away to mount his horse. Gimli patted my uninjured arm.
"Legolas is right, lass," he said comfortingly, and I met his deep brown eyes before he turned and hoisted himself up on the horse behind the Elf. Ehlon mounted her horse as well, riding up to me and nudging my shoulder with her knee. I looked up at her, and followed her eyes to Aragorn, who was standing at the entrance at Fangorn. Our eyes met again, and I felt my throat close.
We still weren't any further. The Hobbits might be alive, but the tales of Fangorn reminded me that they would be in danger at this very moment.
Ehlon nudged my shoulder with her knee again, drawing me out of my reverie. She smiled tightly, nodding toward my horse that was waiting nearby. I nodded back slowly, letting out the breath I'd unknowingly been holding.
I walked to Anwyl and pulled myself onto her back, feeling the pain in my arm again. I followed the others down to Aragorn, who was staring pensively into the darkness of the forest in front of him.
"Their tracks lead to the forest," he said without turning, "and they weren't alone."
I tensed. "Orcs are with them?" I asked quietly, dreading his answer. He looked at me briefly, and then nodded. He turned to the others.
"We will follow them, but be on your guard at all times," he warned quietly.
"Celeborn warned us not to go far into Fangorn," Legolas said, "I have heard nothing of this in my own land, save only songs that tell how the Onodrim, that Men call Ents, dwelt there long ago; for Fangorn is old, old even as the Elves would reckon it."
"Yes, it is old," Aragorn replied, "as old as the forest by the Barrow-downs, and it is far greater. Elrond says that the two are akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Elder Days, in which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept. Yet Fangorn holds some secret of its own. What it is I do not know."
He called after his horse, and once he had mounted the chestnut steed again, he beckoned us to follow.
The horses did not like approaching Fangorn, it seemed, and I understand why once we had left the brightness of the golden plain behind us. The trees grew thick together, stretching upward as far as the eye could see. But it was the choking darkness that made me most uneasy. Certainly, it wasn't as dark as the Mines of Moria, but the coolness of the dark greenery swirling around us made me shiver. Despite this, a sheen of sweat formed on my forehead, and my skin prickled uncomfortably. The place was eerily silent, which did nothing to quell my increasing agitation. I felt as though my very breathing was far too loud in this soundless forest, and I wished I could draw my weapon as had the others once they had entered the forest. (I knew it would be hopeless, since my hand had been rendered mostly unusable.) Legolas rode directly next to me, his bow in his hand as his keen eyes darted about. He clearly wasn't more comfortable than I. I breathed carefully through my nose, but the stuffy air seemed to be as old as the forest itself.
Aragorn stopped suddenly, and brought his finger up to his lips. We stayed stock still, and all I could hear was our breathing and the horses'. Not one other sound penetrated the silence. I shivered again, wiping away the droplets of sweat that continued to form on my forehead. Ehlon was looking at me worriedly, but I gave her a small nod to show her that I was fine.
When the tall Ranger dismounted and began to survey the ground for clues, I knew that we were at the end of our trail. I let out a weary sigh, watching Aragorn straighten from his crouch.
"I do not understand," he murmured, "The trail was unbroken until here."
"Do you think we might split up to search for them, Aragorn?" Gimli asked, hefting his axe.
He shook his head. "Nay," he said quickly, looking around at the forest surrounding us. "It is too dangerous. I have been in this forest before a long time ago, and it is easy to become lost."
Ehlon spoke up quietly. "Perhaps we might ask Amira to see what she can sense…"
All turned to me, faces expectant. "Are you strong enough?" Aragorn asked, his tone gentle. I nodded, giving him a small smile. Then I closed my eyes and allowed the raw power of the ancient forest to enter me for the first time. It was like a river rushing forward – fading images and whispers in forgotten tongues echoed in my mind as I attempted to stretch my senses. They were distracting. I managed to push them away, allowing myself to push outward in a wide circle. I felt the powerful energy of each tree as I did so, but I sensed nothing more. I stretched as far as I could go, and that was when I felt something strange. It wasn't the Hobbits, I was sure of it, and although it felt distinctly inhuman, it wasn't Orc-like either.
I pulled back, my heart hammering my chest. Whatever it was, it had taken away a lot of my energy to locate.
"What was it?" Aragorn whispered, bringing me back to the task at hand. Looking at each of our broken Fellowship, I saw that they were all tense.
"I do not know," I admitted, and then sorrow took hold of me as I relayed the rest of what I had sensed: "The Hobbits are not here, and although I felt something strange, neither are the Orcs that might have accompanied them."
Ehlon held up her Ring, which was glowing softly in the dark. "I have felt something as well, although it is not as strong as it might be if something evil was near."
Legolas looked about. "Something might be lurking in the distance, and I do not like to think of what it might be."
"Or what it might do when it finds us," Gimli muttered, rubbing his thumb thoughtfully over his axe blade.
Aragorn pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I am at an impasse," he said at length, "I cannot say where they have gone. Their tracks have disappeared completely, and as Amira said, they are nowhere in the distance that she can sense." He looked genuinely weary now. "We ought to make camp here, to think a while before we decide on our course."
Gimli looked startled. "In this forest? I don't think I could rest in this gloom if my life depended on it!"
Aragorn gave him a wry look before dismounting. The rest followed suit, but I stayed where I was, transfixed by all that had just transpired and what it might mean for the future. Ehlon touched my knee, and I managed a small smile. Legolas also appeared at my side, and before I could protest, he helped me down from atop Anwyl.
"Thank-you," I said breathlessly as he set me down.
He smiled, "For you, Amira, it is a pleasure." And then his smile faded when he lifted his hand from my injured arm, my blood transferring onto his fingers. "You're bleeding!" he murmured, his brow furrowed in concern.
Ehlon drew me aside then. Wordlessly she pushed me down with my back against a tree. Crouching next to me, she rolled up my sleeve, sucking in a breath when she saw the bloodied bandage. Her eyes met mine: "This horse riding was welcome for the legs, and unwelcome for this arm, it seems."
I nodded, hissing in pain when she began to unroll the bandage itself. I was scared to look upon the mess I knew that was my arm, but in the end, I couldn't help myself. Indeed, it was worse now than before. But Ehlon said nothing. Reaching to her side, she slid out her dagger, cutting a strip from her white tunic before I could protest. I flinched and bit my lip when she splashed some water over the raw wound. I felt tears prick my eyes when she began to clean away the blood. Carefully, Ehlon wrapped the new bandage around my arm, tucking it in securely and unrolling my sleeve over it when she was satisfied with her handiwork.
Leaning back, she gave me a meaningful look. "How does it feel?"
I twisted my arm experimentally, and was met with a twang of pain. "Much better, thank-you," I said. She just kept staring at me, as though attempting to read my thoughts. Finally, she stood up. Aragorn, I saw, had succeeded in making a small fire, and they were staring pensively into the flames. The trees, however, did not appear to like the heat of the fire on their cool boughs. They shook and trembled at the feel of the fire, and after another long moment, they settled into place.
Ehlon reached into her pack. "Lembas?" she offered quietly, and we all had our share. I think I lost count of the times I had uttered a thankful prayer to Lady Galadriel for her gifts, for the lembas never failed to restore our energy and cheer. Now, I hoped it would point us in the direction our dear Hobbit friends…
I fell asleep with my back against the tree. Exhaustion took over, and I could not control it. When I awoke, it was still dark, but how could one truly determine the time of day in such a gloom? I blinked away the sleep in my eyes, watching Aragorn stir the glowing embers of the fire with a stick. Legolas, Gimli, and Ehlon were all awake as well, staring at the fire. I leaned forward, my back sore from leaning against the tree.
Their eyes instantly turned to me. I was about to speak when an overwhelming power touched me. I shut my mouth, my entire body freezing in place. I pushed outward in a circle to determine the source of the power, and suddenly Legolas jumped up, an arrow already notched on his bow.
A bent figure had appeared on the far reach of the fire's bouncing light. Aragorn stood, though more carefully than the Elf. "Come and enjoy the fire's warmth, old man," he called out softly, but the figure of the old man had disappeared.
"That was not a mere old man," I said, and I realized my voice was shaking slightly.
Aragorn's eyes shot to mine. "Who was it, Amira?"
I shook my head in frustration. "I do not know. He was powerful, very powerful. The same energy field that I sensed earlier in the forest, if I am not mistaken…"
Gimli took hold of his axe suddenly. "It was Saruman, lurking about then, wasn't it? Searching us out, no doubt!"
Legolas sighed, putting away his arrow and sitting down again. Aragorn remained standing.
The Dwarf huffed, sitting down also. "He had a staff and a pointed hat. Who else would it be? I knew this forest was dangerous from the moment I stepped into it. If the Hobbits encountered him, then they must be in trouble. It seems to me that it would be unlikely that their entrance would go unnoticed, either by Saruman or others in the forest."
Ehlon rolled her neck to the side. "I think you're right about the Hobbits, Gimli, but if it had been Saruman, then would he not have tried to destroy us?"
Aragorn turned back toward the fire. "His cunningness is not to be underestimated, Ehlon. He might have easily surprised us, but I think if it were him, he was more likely spying on our location."
"Or it might be an illusion," Legolas put in, looking around distrustfully at the trees.
I moved closer to the fire, feeling that all-too-familiar energy prickling at my back again. "It seemed too powerful to be a mere illusion," I said, feeling drained, "Whoever and whatever it was, it is a force to be reckoned with, I think."
Ehlon spoke up then. "Amira is right. Look at our Rings." She held up her hand, where her Ring was glowing a bright silver. I looked to my own sister Ring, and saw that it too was giving off a light of its own.
Aragorn frowned and let out a slow exhale. "Let us hope that Pippin and Merry have found a way out of this forest, but until some small light appears in the morning, let us get what rest we can." He caught eye, giving me a serious look. "Especially you, Amira. Sleep."
I smiled a little, and took my cloak from my pack and placed it on the ground. With that, I lay down by the fire, feeling exhaustion take over me once more...
Ehlon shook me awake some hours later, and the forest did not seem near as gloomy as the day before. I forced myself upright, and hissed when I put weight on my injured arm in the process. Gimli handed me some lembas, and I took it from him gratefully.
"The horses are gone," Ehlon said quietly, and I nearly spat out my mouthful. "They disappeared overnight, although there is no trace of where they might have gone."
I was stunned at this new development.
Gimli grumbled, rubbing his beard. "Saruman's doing, no doubt."
There was a shout from nearby, and everyone had their hands on their respective weapons when Aragorn ran into the circle. There was a smile on his rugged face.
"I have found a trail," he said, "it leads to a nearby stream, where they drank and bathed their feet but two days ago."
I felt my heart lift, and then I remembered that much can happen within the time span of two days.
"Lead us, Aragorn!" Legolas said, and once we had gathered our packs, we walked through the trees after our leader. The trees humbled away slightly from the small stream that appeared in a grove of arbutus trees, and the smell of clean air was refreshing. Aragorn pointed to the smudged footprints in the mud, and I smiled when I saw that they were unmistakably left by the Hobbits.
Gimli leaned on his axe. "And now where have they gone?"
But Aragorn was already following the trail away from the stream.
Ehlon cracked a smile. "That way, apparently."
Gimli gave her a narrow-eyed look as he brushed past her, and Ehlon merely put her hand on my back as we walked after him and Legolas.
Perhaps a half hour later we stopped again, the trail of footsteps few and far between now. Aragorn sighed in frustration. "Our road is at yet another end," he murmured, leaning against a tree as he sipped water from his flask. We were all silent as we considered the enormity of where we were. We were travelling deeper and deeper into Fangorn, and further and further, it seemed, from finding Merry and Pippin.
"But we cannot give up, Aragorn," Gimli spoke up gruffly, "We've come this far!"
Aragorn turned to the Dwarf. "I never said we were giving up, Gimli. I merely meant that the signs of their passing are becoming further and further apart, and now there is nothing yet again. It is all very strange."
Legolas was looking at me. "Do you think you might be able to sense what is around us, Amira?"
I nodded, and closed my eyes. Expanding my awareness outwards once more, I felt that same presence as the day before. Pulling back in shock, I came back to myself, breathing hard. Gimli nudged my side with the butt of his axe.
"You alright, lass?" he asked.
I nodded quickly, my heartbeat returning to normal. "It is the powerful figure we saw last night, I believe, although much closer than when I'd sensed him the day before," I answered.
Aragorn's brow furrowed in concentration, and then he shook himself and said: "Be on your guard, then, for if it is Saruman we will be against unmatchable strength."
And this was when I felt it, the prickling agitation crawling up my back. But this time it was worse. Whatever it was, it was coming closer.
Ehlon drew her sword, and I could tell she had felt it too. "He's coming near!" she hissed to Aragorn, who tensed and drew Andúril. We stood shoulder to shoulder close together in the small clearing, Legolas with an arrow notched on his bow and Gimli with his axe raised. Ehlon had her arm protectively in front of me, her body ready to act at any moment.
But nothing came. A minute or two passed, and nothing happened. A leaf from one of the trees fell, and still nothing happened. Gimli lowered his axe with a growl, "Perhaps the varmint changed his mind."
Legolas's eyes darted around carefully. "Or perhaps he wants to draw us into a trap."
Aragorn sighed, lowering his sword. "Whatever we do in this forest, it seems a meeting with this presence will be unavoidable. Let us continue on, but be ready with your weapons."
We continued on, but I did not like this situation one bit. We were all ill at ease, I think, but especially Gimli, who looked about fearfully. Indeed, it seemed that the trees were becoming larger, darker, and more ominous as we moved on. A strange wind moved through the boughs, and a low murmuring could be heard over the squeaking of the wood. Legolas paused suddenly, and I bumped into his back. Gimli lifted his axe higher: "I don't like this forest at all," he muttered, mostly to himself, "Full of evil things!" The murmuring grew in volume, and we all stopped as the trees began to shake.
Gimli's eyes darted about in fright. "Lovely forest, I said, a beautiful lovely forest!" he cried, searching for words, "Charming forest!" Aragorn chuckled.
"The trees are talking to one another!" Legolas whispered, his eyes bright. The murmuring had lessened, and now it had formed an undertone. Aragorn began walking again, leading us upward to a rocky incline. It was Legolas who stopped us again.
"Look!" he exclaimed in an undertone, "Down in the wood, back in the way we have just come. Cannot you see him, passing from tree to tree?"
I whirled around, and just as Legolas had said, the figure was walking through the wood toward us. I squinted, wishing for the one thousandth time that I had Elven eyesight. It appeared that he was a beggar man, old and bent over. He walked with the assistance of a twisted staff, but his weary gait did nothing to dissolve my anxiety. It was his energy field – powerful, even menacing – that frightened me the most.
Aragorn had moved to the front now as we watched the old man step closer and closer. We were all tense as we watched, but Aragorn did not signal to draw our weapons. I squinted again. The man was wearing a pointed hat, indeed, which left his face in the shadows.
Gimli jerked suddenly, nudging Legolas as he shouted hoarsely: "Your bow, Legolas! Bend it! Get ready! It is Saruman. Do not let him speak, or put a spell on us! Shoot first!"
Legolas obeyed immediately, but he did not release an arrow. Gimli shook with disbelief.
"Why are you waiting?" he hissed at the Elf, and Aragorn touched the Dwarf's shoulder.
"Legolas is right," he murmured lowly, "We may not shoot an old man so, at unawares and unchallenged, whatever fear or doubt be on us. Watch and wait!"
And indeed we waited with baited breath, following the man as he moved closer to us. At last he broke into the clearing before the incline up the rocky hill, and it was here that he stopped. I felt a sudden pain in my head, and it was as though my very skull might implode from the pressure. I sucked in a painful breath, struggling to focus my attention on the old man a mere ten feet away.
"Well met!" a voice came from under the hood. "And what may you be doing in these parts? An Elf, a Dwarf, a Man, and two Ladies, all clad in Elvish fashion. No doubt there is a tale worth hearing behind it all…"
Aragorn replied calmly, "Might we know your name, and then hear what it is that you have to say to us? The morning passes, and we have an errand that will not wait."
The old man chuckled briefly, and his voice held amusement that put my body on edge. "What may you be doing, and what tale can you tell of yourselves? As for my name!" He paused suddenly, laughing to himself. "Have you not guessed it already? You have heard it before, I think…But come now, what of your tale?"
My mind was working quickly now. We had heard of his name before? If this man was not Saruman, then who might he be?
Aragorn was silent, and we followed his silence and remained mute as well.
The old man stepped forward until he was only a few feet away. "Happily I know something of it. You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits, I believe…" I started at his words, "Well, they climbed up here the day before yesterday, and they met someone that they did not expect. Does that comfort you? And now you would like to know where they were taken? Well, well, maybe I can give some news about that. But why are we standing? Your errand, you see, is no longer as urgent as you thought." The man paused, and gestured to the low boulders nearby. "Let us sit down and be more at ease."
Aragorn relaxed, and we followed him forward toward the stones. Something within me screamed that something wasn't as it appeared. The old man eased himself onto a stone, and in doing so, it drew apart his heavy grey cloak, revealing the pure white linen beneath.
Gimli sighted this and gave a shout. "Saruman!" he cried, leaping toward the old man with his axe raised menacingly, "Speak! Tell us where you have hidden our friends! What have you done with them? Speak, or I will make a dint in your hat that even a wizard will find it hard to deal with!"
It all happened quickly from that moment onward…
The old man sprang to his feet instantly, leaping to the top of a large rock. Standing there, he towered above us, flinging his grey cloak and hat away from him as though they were nuisances. The sun shone on his white robes, and he lifted his staff toward Gimli, who watched his axe sail from his hand and land with a thump on the grass. I backed away in shock. Aragorn's sword, which had drawn as soon as the man had moved, stayed motionless in his hand until now, when it suddenly shot through with flames. With a yelp, he dropped it onto the grass. Legolas yelled, shooting an arrow high into the air above the man's head. It vanished instantly, swallowed by a flash of flame.
I staggered backward as the truth fell upon me like a large stone. Could it be? No!
"Mithrandir!" Legolas shouted, and the man's blue eyes twinkled.
"Well met, I say to you again, Legolas!" he said happily.
I fell to my knees in the green grass. "Gandalf?" I heard my own voice gasp out his name from a distance. His hair was white like the first snow of spring, glimmering beneath the sun like the robes upon his back. His eyes danced with a new power, the power that had been restored by the staff in his hand. I blinked my eyes rapidly, feeling as though someone had struck me over the head. My limbs were weighted with a heaviness I had never felt before, and my breath seemed to still in my lungs.
Aragorn swallowed visibly. "You fell-" he breathed out, his disbelief choking his words.
Gandalf smiled gently at him, "Through fire and water, from the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth." Here his tone darkened, "Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time." He paused, his voice softer now. "Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age in the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again." He drew himself up taller, standing before us proudly yet comforting. "I've been sent back, until my task is done."
Kneeling, Aragorn picked up his sword. "Gandalf!" he murmured in wonder, a smile etching itself on his face, "Beyond all hope you return to us in our need!"
Gandalf appeared quizzical. "Gandalf?" he repeated, as though he had never heard if before, "yes, that was the name." He smiled, "I was Gandalf."
Gimli stared up at him from where he too had fallen onto his knees.
Gandalf turned to him. "Get up, my good Gimli!" he exclaimed, and the Dwarf laughed and stood. "No blame to you and no harm done to me. Indeed my friends, none of you have any weapons that could hurt me. Be merry! We meet again, at the turn of the tide. The great storm is coming, but the tide has turned…"
And then my Mentor turned to me, stepping down from the stone and walking slowly toward me. He stopped in front of me, and we looked at each other for a long moment. He held out his hand, and it was like a dream when I reached out and took it. He lifted me up with surprising strength, touching my blood soaked sleeve.
"You have been through much, my child, but indeed the tide has turned," he said with a smile, and I threw my arms around his neck, ignoring the pain that jolted through my arm. He chuckled warmly, returning my tight embrace. I let him go after a moment. I found that I could not speak; a lump of stone seemed to be lodged in my throat.
"Gandalf!" Gimli was saying, "But you are all in white!"
My Mentor smiled again. "Yes, I am white now. Indeed, I am Saruman, one might almost say, Saruman as he should have been. But come now, tell me of yourselves! I have passed through fire and deep water, since we parted. I have forgotten that I thought I knew, and learned again much that I had forgotten. I can see many things far off, but many things that are close at hand I cannot see."
We sat down on the grassy hill, and Aragorn narrated all that transpired after Gandalf's fall into the abyss in the Mines of Moria. He sighed when he heard of Boromir's fall, and then he sighed again when he learned of my awakened magic. He looked at me with a broad smile.
"So at last the time has come," he murmured, gazing at me for a long moment. Then he shook his head slightly, straightening his shoulders as Aragorn continued.
Soon, Aragorn halted and asked: "And Gandalf, tell us of the Hobbits. Where have they gone? We have hunted them for days, and our hearts are heavy."
Gandalf slid his hand over his staff as he contemplated the Man's words. "Fangorn has treated them well," he said slowly.
Gimli spoke up: "I thought Fangorn was dangerous!"
My Mentor shot him a sharp look. "Dangerous!" he cried indignantly, "And so am I, very dangerous: more dangerous than anything you will ever meet, unless you are brought alive before the seat of the Dark Lord. And Aragorn is dangerous, and Legolas is dangerous as well as Lady Ehlon," Gandalf glanced quickly at me, "Our dear Amira is also dangerous, though things beautiful and rare often do not seem to have underlying peril hidden beneath the skin. You are beset with dangers, Gimli son of Glóin; for you are dangerous yourself, in your own fashion. Certainly the forest of Fangorn is perilous – not at least to those that are too ready with their axes; and Fangorn himself, he is perilous too, yet he is wise and kindly nonetheless." The wizard paused momentarily, "But now his long slow wrath is brimming over, and it will soon be running like a flood; but its tide is turned against Saruman and the axes of Isengard. A thing is about to happen which has not happened since the Elder Days: the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."
At the end of his speech, Gandalf's voice was filled with quiet enthusiasm.
"What will they do?" Legolas asked quietly, his face revealing his astonishment.
"I do not know," Gandalf admitted, "I do not think they know themselves."
I frowned, "And where does that leave Merry and Pippin? Did they meet one of these Ents?"
Gandalf turned to me, his clear blue eyes keen as they met mine. There was something otherworldly about these eyes, but still, I did not fail to detect the warmth and caring within them. In this way, the wizard had not changed. I relaxed slightly, and he gave me an almost imperceptible nod before beginning to speak: "They were brought to Fangorn, dear Amira, and their coming was like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains." Here Gandalf nodded, more to himself than anyone else, "Even as we talk, I hear the first rumblings. Saruman had best not be caught away from home when the dam bursts!"
Aragorn's eyes narrowed slightly, and then he sighed, clapping Gandalf on the shoulder affectionately. "In one thing you have not changed, dear friend," he said, "You still speak in riddles!"
Gandalf laughed, and I couldn't help but do the same. When the moment was over, he sighed and turned to me. "They are safe, my dear, very safe. Far safer, indeed, than they would be if they followed with us now!" He paused, and I knew better than to interject with another question before his line of thought was complete. At last, he spoke again: "Indeed, in Treebeard's hands they are utterly safe."
Legolas started, gazing at the wizard in surprise. "Treebeard, you say?"
"Yes, Legolas," my Mentor answered slowly, standing lithely. "A dweller of Fangorn, he is, and a key to the burst of change which shall soon descend." He smiled suddenly, as though enjoying a private joke that no else would understand.
There was a huff from my left. Gimli stepped forward. "But where are they? If you do not tell us soon, I might suspect you are playing with our minds, wizard."
"Patience, dear Gimli," Gandalf chuckled, "I was beginning to tell you, if you would only let an old man talk without desiring to throw his battle axe at him."
The Dwarf looked down, humbled, grumbling: "I thought you were Saruman."
"I thought as much," Gandalf said, in a voice which held no anger whatsoever. "Indeed, you could almost call me Saruman, for I am he, at least, Saruman as he should have been." He hesitated, and then sighed for the hundredth time. "Young Pippin and Merry are with Treebeard and the Ents, but that is all I can say for the time being, I'm afraid, for I do not know it all myself."
"Ents?" Aragorn repeated, a hint of awe on his face.
"And you say they are to wake up, Gandalf?" I questioned.
He nodded, and then he peered up at the sky, "The morning is wearing away. Soon we must go."
The Ranger stood, and the rest of us followed suit. "Do we go to find our friends and to see Treebeard?" he asked, voicing all of our thoughts.
To my surprise, Gandalf shook his white head. "No, that is not the road that you must take. I have spoken words of hope. But only of hope. Hope is not victory." He looked at each of us solemnly, "War is upon us and all our friends, a war in which only the use of the Ring could give us surety of victory. It fills me with great sorrow and great fear; for much shall be destroyed and all may be lost. I am Gandalf, Gandalf the White, but Black is mightier still…"
A hush had fallen over the small hill, and we stood motionless, chilled to the bone by his words. He turned suddenly: "Come, Aragorn son of Arathorn! Do not regret your choice in the valley of the Emyn Muil, nor call it a vain pursuit. You chose amid doubts the path that seemed right: the choice was just, and it has been rewarded. For so we have met in time, who otherwise might have met too late. But the quest of your companions is over. Your next journey is marked by your given word." Gandalf put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "You must go to Edoras and seek out Théoden in his hall. For you are needed. The light of Andúril must now be uncovered in the battle for which it has so long waited. The war is in Rohan, and worse evil: it goes ill with Théoden."
"Then are we not to see the merry young Hobbits again?" Legolas asked slowly.
"Who knows? Have patience. Go where you must go, and hope! It was more than mere chance that brought Pippin and Merry to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years." He paused, holding up his staff. "To Edoras! I go thither also…"
"Yes," Aragorn said, a smile resting on his face, "we will set out together. And this I also say: you are our captain and our banner. The Dark Lord has Nine. But we have One, mightier than they – the White Rider. He has passed through the fire and the abyss, and they shall fear him. We will go where he leads."
Gandalf smiled in return, and with the sweeping of his white cloak, he began to walk down the hillside. Slowly, we followed his footsteps, leaving aside our dogged hunt and readying ourselves to face a greater evil still….
Well, as we all expected, this chapter encompasses the return of Gandalf, now Gandalf the White. :) I hope none of you are bored with my writing style, or are becoming annoyed by Amira's point of view. For some reason these days I feel more self-conscious about Amira's character development, and I hope she does not come across as whiny or weak. What do you think? Please share your thoughts on Amira's character development as it would help me greatly...
As I have hinted at previously, I am at an impasse in this story in regard to where to take it. I have 22 chapters for this second Volume, none of which I am certain will be any decent to post, but I believe I will anyhow. It has been a while since I have started writing, and now that I am going over my chapters editing things, I wonder if I am taking Amira's journey in the right direction, if I should scrap my designs for her entirely. However, time will tell. I thank you all for reading!
