Dark Forest
By Anarithilien

Part Four: When Worlds Unite
Chapter Fifty-Three: Distraction

Gimli was thrown to the ground, his teeth rattling in his head with the sudden impact of the fall, and immediately his head thrummed with the ache of the blow. Rallying, he curled his fingers, digging them into the loamy soil and then threw a handful into the face of his attacker. Following on that move, he instinctively flailed out at his assailant, his hand drawn into a fist. But his right arm was pinned beneath him while the left was grabbed, and too quickly to make sense of the move, a knee pressed into his chest trapping him into an unmovable position.

Still, he fought, legs kicking, hips bucking. He would not be kept!

A silky veil fell over his eyes as a voice spoke in his ear. "Come to yourself! Come to yourself now!"

The dwarf blinked to sudden wakefulness and he realized he had been blind to what was about him. He found himself staring into the angry green eyes of Thranduil, and he paused. How he had come to be in such a position? He could not recall. "Wh...?" he started, stilling as he tried to reason the circumstances.

"Take It off!" Thranduil demanded pulling Gimli's hand forth. He struggled to pry open the dwarf's fist.

"What? No!" Gimli argued, realizing the elf was trying to take the Ring from him. His ire flared again. Thranduil had all but pushed the Ring upon Gimli and now he was stealing It back? "Mine!" he began to shout but a hand was clapped over his mouth, essentially silencing him.

Thranduil bent close then but his voice could be heard despite his whispered words. "Hush! He will hear you. Be silent now!"

That was the moment Gimli realized where they were and why stealth was required. Fangorn. Mirnen. The lake. With new understanding he complied, and after a minute Thranduil removed his hand from the dwarf's mouth, pushing off the supine figure. Regardless, the elf kept low, as if hiding away. He glanced past the bristly brush and out toward the lake and clearing. Seemingly satisfied, he ducked his golden head and glanced back at Gimli. His brows came together in agitation and once more he instructed, "Take It off, I say, lest It possess you again."

Gimli felt lost then. What did the elf mean? Possessing him? Had something happened? He could not recall what had occurred that required Thranduil to push him to the ground.

It seemed his expression was enough to convey his confusion, for the elf looked at him squarely, his brow softening. He pursed his lips as he shook his head. Sighing, he explained, "We were nearly seen by the Ent. I told you to drop, but instead you remained standing in plain sight. Do you not recall?"

The words stirred no memory and Gimli shook his head. Thranduil turned a pointed gaze at the hand on which Gimli wore the Ring. The dwarf knew one of elfkind could not see a Dwarven Ring but that did not stop Gimli from feeling ashamed that the elf sensed it. "I promised to guard you from that and I am telling you now you must remove It."

That the elf was demanding as much from him made Gimli aware that he had somehow failed as a Ringbearer. Though he had no memory of it, he grasped what Thranduil was saying and he immediately did as he was told, pulling the Ring from his finger and dropping it heavily into his pocket. Humiliated that he had fallen under the Ring's spell, he frowned. He had many questions to ask. For one, if the Ring was capable of making him lose himself, why had Thranduil insisted he keep It near, that he use It? But he could not ask. Not now, for he could remember. They were in too dangerous a place to converse on such a topic for Legolas needed them to be wary.

Legolas.

Thranduil sighed in relief then as he once again looked out past their hiding place. Seeming to find it safe, he leaned his head back, gazing to the treed ceiling over their heads. He whispered, "We are not seen. We are safe. Alas the same cannot be said of Legolas."

"Have you seen Legolas?" Gimli asked, creeping to forest edge where Thranduil knelt.

"You do not remember? The Ring had you enraptured. Do you even remember coming to this rise?" the elf king asked.

"Of course," Gimli scowled. "It was just... something was calling my attention away. The water, I think... there is something wrong with the water here." He edged closer to the king as he said this, coming to his knees.

"The water? Ai, my nose tells me as much. But it was also clear you were dazed. I told you then to take the Ring off, and when you did not, I threw you to the ground. I am sorry for that but we were nearly seen." He nodded ahead and Gimli looked to where he directed. There, on the other side of the lake, was Greywood. The old Ent was swaying from side to side, rocking in the same manner Gimli had seen the oliphaunts of the Easterlings do. The creature lolled from side to side, milling like the deck of a ship. And too, he was singing. Contentedly he thrummed on, droning notes that were deep and resonant. Even from the distance Gimli could hear him and it seemed the Ent truly was serene and oblivious to their presence.

The elf continued. "The willows moved and then Mithtaur was there." Gimli noticed then the movement of the other trees on the island; broad, lacelike willows swayed in time to the music Greywood made. Further, they rocked softly, gently as if they were nursing a child and Gimli was startled by how delicate their movements were. Thranduil continued, "Mithtaur looked out across the water and I thought that surely he sought us. But that has not been so. I do not think he knows we are here, and fortunately these Huorns have not given our presence away." He nodded to the trees around them. "They have not joined in the singing."

Gimli too noticed the silence of the trees as he watched the Ent. But his thoughts did not stay on the peace but instead focused on something else. The willowed Huorns were occupied in task, working together, twining their limbs into the limbs of one another and Gimli likened them to some of the women he had seen in Minas Tirith, grooming each other before a great feast. He was intrigued by their actions for the five or six clustered near one another, roaming back and forth, in and out like ducks swimming a water surface. Though their masses were huge, balanced in the branches of several of them lay a fruit of some sort and this he realized is why he made the connection to women. It was as if the trees wore jewels or decoration. But these were not for adornment. What they carried had purpose. Are those gourds...? Gimli thought. Hollowed shells? He could not tell for certain.

As he watched them arrange and rearrange the shells, their purpose grew more and more clear, for not only did they maneuver those small vessels between them but they also passed a larger object. His heart thudded suddenly, wildly, and his eyes grew wide as he saw that within the cradle of those bent branches they held Legolas! Gimli could not believe his eyes. Legolas was here! Here! Without thinking, he gave voice to the sight, "Legolas!"

But immediately he was shushed by the elf at his side.

He began to protest that the discovery was not being rejoiced, but quickly glancing at Thranduil he found his elation falling flat. Seeing the elf's expression in witnessing the same event made him realize they did not see the same thing and he had to remind himself that Thranduil had been witness to more than he. Eyes locked to the scene, Thranduil indeed did see, but he looked as if to cry in sorrow and deep worry instead of like cheer. The elf's eyes glistened with moisture unshed, and at the same time, an expression of extreme anger creased his brow. This was not a celebratory moment.

He looked back again to see what he had missed and recognized suddenly the circumstance. Legolas did not move. The Huorns were passing his limp form one to another but they also drew the fruit from their limbs and pressed them to his lips. That was the single clue that told him Legolas lived for the elf protested modestly to the plying. Do they feed him? Gimli wondered. Legolas raised a hand and tried to push the husk away, but the motion was feeble and he was unsuccessful at staving the tree creatures off.

After a moment's protest, he dropped his arms limply to his sides and was passed into Greywood's arms, his head lolling on the stem of his neck, too heavy to be lifted it seemed. He fell back into a lifeless position again, arms stretched out with complete abandon and surrender, shifted into the arms of that hovering tree.

It made Gimli's stomach turn. He had seen Legolas in many states, but never one of such as this. Injured, tired, angered, glib, vengeful and mirthful - these were all facets he had witnessed in his elven friend. But this... helpless... lifeless... his heart twisted in his chest. He knew not what he could do and, recognizing that, he understood Thranduil's mien. He could cry for the anxiety eating at him.

The Ent held him upright, like some newborn babe. But the elf lifted his head as if he had heard Gimli's cry. It may have been a coincidence, Gimli realized, for his friend's eyes seemed to register little. It was clear to Gimli that Legolas was not conscious. He appeared unfocused, lost in one of those expressions Gimli associated with the dreamless world of elven sleep. He was certain the drink was responsible for his friend's state. It must be some kind of elixir they gave him.

He found himself twisting his fingers into his beard, an old habit that showed itself in times of stress. At least he was not reaching for the Ring, he thought.

He looked again at Thranduil, who still looked out over the lake. Gimli noted once more that he shared Legolas's profile, his long straight nose, his high thoughtful brow, the recess of his penetrating green eyes. His expression reminded Gimli of Legolas in times of great stress like those moments before the final battle at the Black Gates. He remembered all the horrors of Mordor that had spewed out upon the Morgoth Vale. Like Legolas then, Thranduil's brow was creased, his eyes were wide, and his mouth was pinched as if he bit the inside of his cheek. And in his mind, this horror was equal.

"What are we to do? We have scouted him out and are expected back. Yet we must help him somehow," the dwarf said.

"We cannot leave, even if we dare try. You will recall that the Huorns blocked our path when we tried to turn back. We are pressed here," Thranduil whispered.

"I suppose then it is up to us to rescue him," Gimli said. He had no plan but it was not beyond him to try something so grand. Looking at Legolas, his heart was winning out over any caution chiming within his head.

Surprisingly, the sound of their quiet conversation seemed to rouse his friend. Perhaps it was another coincidence but Legolas lifted his head once more, looking their way, as if trying to find them with his eyes.

Gimli found encouragement in that, for their distance was several hundred feet. This time Legolas looked as if to try and push himself erect. But Greywood did not relinquish. It might have been the elf spoke too; his lips moved. But if he did his voice did not carry. Yet he saw! Gimli was sure of that. He saw the dwarf. And then as if all his strength had left him Legolas's head fell back and his eyes rolled skyward once more.

It was not much but it was an activity the Ent did not seem to appreciate. From across the body of water, Mithtaur lifted his head and moaned a deep rumble. Thranduil clutched at Gimli's arm then, pulling him deeper into the shadows as the trees about them began to moan in imitating sound. The vibration of it worked through his body. Gimli tensed. Had they been seen? Were they in danger?

Thranduil held his grip on the dwarf's arm and whispered, "Do not move." And Gimli did exactly this, complying as only a dwarf could. In his craft, precise stillness was sometimes required. Thranduil then whispered reason to his command, "They will settle once more into their dreams if we remain still." Gimli has not thought that, but Thranduil was an elf of the wood so he supposed he would know a thing or two of trees. And true to this observation, the trees - Huorns, the dwarf amended - seemed to quiet, their moans and creaks softening the longer he and Thranduil remained.

"You may breathe, of course," Thranduil whispered into his ear, a smile touching the sound of his words.

Of course Gimli had been breathing, but he could not help but smile at the chiding. He dared a glance at Thranduil, grateful for his guidance; the elf gave him a subtle nod of encouragement. And though they were in the shadows of the trees, they could still see. Finding a small bit of relief from the threat of the trees, Gimli craned his neck so as to look again at his friend.

Seeming to have already forgotten Legolas's searching gaze into the wood, Greywood tended him once more, lifting his head and shoulders and pouring the contents of a hollowed shell over his legs. That struck Gimli as odd. "What is it being done to him? How is he hurt?" he asked.

He had not really expected a reply, but Thranduil gave one anyway. His elven eyes could clearly see more than Gimli's. "His leg is torn with a wound and he has several bruises across his face and brow. I can only see what is outward, but his eyes are now closed." Gimli frowned. They both knew that news was ill.

"He looks drugged," Gimli offered.

"It may be he suffers a head injury," Thranduil suggested. "Though drugging would be preferrable." He looked over at Gimli then, a brief glance that merely affirmed his anxiety and the dwarf could see the fine lines around the elf's eyes, the pinching tightness created by fatigue and worry. "If it is injury, it is not unexpected," he continued, grimly looking again into the distance that separated them from Legolas. "We both knew he would be stricken somehow."

Indeed, Gimli did know this, but now that he was there it did not help. He frowned when Greywood's huge body blocked his view and he found himself leaning outward so he might see past. And then he realized the Ent had passed the elf off once more to the Huorns. "What do you think the others will do when we do not return?" he asked, thinking that he would not leave Legolas now even if the opportunity presented itself to do so.

"Eventually, I suppose, they will seek us out," Thranduil replied.

"That could be as dangerous as making our presence here known," Gimli added. "For Legolas as well as ourselves." He could feel the Ring pulling him to use It and he began to suspect it was his uncertainty that drew him to It. But what could he do? Any purpose he gave It would just draw attention to them.

Thranduil's eyes searched the forest with sharp scrutiny then. "If we turn back, the Huorns will block us, and quite likely alert Mithtaur of our presence. If we stay, it seems we go unnoticed. In time Fangorn and the company will come to us. I prefer the latter, I think, for an Ent can rule his own kind. But other opportunities may present themselves too if we hold."

Gimli would agree, yet he found his voice catching in protest when he saw the Huorns passing around his friend, like children playing and eagerly petting a lone kitten. But then Greywood suddenly began to move, lumbering to where the Huorns tended Legolas. And then he lifted the elf away, gently scooping him up so he lay in the crook of his arm. Legolas remained pliant through it all, not even lifting his hand to protest this time, and Gimli found that troubling. Their decision to remain in waiting meant they would have to witness this, but he was not sure he had the stomach to be complacent to it. "We must get him out of there," he whispered to Thranduil.

The elf smiled, nodding. "Patience. It may be the Ent carries out the task for us. Look!"

And with that, Greywood turned and looked out across the lake. His eyes inspected the opposite shore where Gimli and Thranduil hid, but he did not seem to spy the pair kneeling in the thicket of briar and yew. Instead, his gaze went further, to the small clearing of dead grasses and brush Gimli had earlier observed. A moment later it became apparent that was where the Ent would go.

"Now we know the way across," Thranduil commented. And Gimli could see how it was, for as Greywood stepped, the hidden path just beneath the surface of the water was revealed to them. The water of the lake was not deep in all places it seemed.

He watched as the tree lord crossed the channel between the two landmasses, Legolas in his arms. His grey, mossy feet, like two stumps, beaten and pulpy, were creating barely a ripple on the surface of the water. Gimli found this odd, for the Ent was large and even in shallow water, his steps would have made a splash. Yet it was as if the water was untouched.

"Thranduil," he began. "The water. It is not right. Do you see?" But he immediately silenced himself as the Ent looked in their direction. His gaze did not linger though, and just as he had looked before, Greywood veered off toward the weather-worn meadow. It was then that Gimli noticed the Ent's song. It was not just a moan but a series of groans and deep rumbles that bellowed low from the creature at a level more felt than heard. He realized it was only with proximity that he could sense it to its greatest effect.

"His song sounds much like the voices of the others we earlier met," the elf said, but his head was canted and he appeared puzzled or somehow intrigued.

"Can you discern meaning from it?" Gimli asked, guessing that the elf was indeed seeking the answer to what was said in the Ent's song.

"He speaks words here where the others did not vocalize. I begin to understand him." Thranduil said no more then, his eyes lit on the creature, his attention clearly focused on this task.

But Gimli grew increasingly impatient, and after a minute's wait he interjected. "And...?" he prompted.

Thranduil shook his head, as if awaking from a trance. But then he said, "The song moves slowly, but I think he is telling a story." The elf paused then, his expression telling of the concentration he placed in deciphering the sounds laid before them. They continued to watch as Greywood, with continued care, found a place free of toppled trees or laden limbs, to lower Legolas to. The grass parted where he was placed, creasing with the sound of brittle crispness. To Gimli's disappointment and fear, Legolas still did not stir though he was near enough to see his chest rise and fall with labored breath, and he thought perhaps he even saw Legolas's lips move in whispered words.

Thranduil stirred slightly at his side, and when Gimli looked at him again he saw the elf's face had grown stern. Nodding to the Ent, he said, "He speaks of the elf colony that once lived here... and Faeldaer."

"That does not surprise me," Gimli muttered. "He spoke of these before in his addled way."

"There is more though," Thranduil frowned. "Legolas sings with him."

"Legolas is singing?" Gimli asked.

"His voice is but a whisper, but he sings. It is as if he repeats what he hears," Thranduil nodded grimly. It seemed he did not like what he was able to translate for this bit of knowledge did not encourage him.

They watched for a time more though nothing changed. The Ent simply stood over the supine figure of the elf, singing and swaying ever so slowly, as if he had no other duty than this. Gimli found himself growing frustrated as time wore away, for he worried that, even should the others come, Legolas was too near the reach of the Ent to be freed. With one blow, or even a misplaced foot, Greywood could kill Legolas if he so chose. Or at least he could threaten such if pushed by others. Gimli had no idea how they were going free him, and he felt for himself as if he too was surrounded and imprisoned. He hoped then, as fearful as he was for Legolas's proximity to the Ent, that Treebeard was bringing a host of assistance. True, Greywood was but one, but here, in his private realm, it seemed he ruled many Huorns.

And just as he thought this, the Ent stepped away. He held a gourd in his large, limb-like hand, just as he had at the island, and as he pivoted his eyes slid past the hiding place Gimli and Thranduil shared. He looked at the small pool that served as the well for the Ent's drink and Gimli knew he would go there. Long, cranelike legs traipsed the distance, and the Ent bent, filling the shell with the rank liquid. Gimli fully expected the Ent to drink his draught then, for he was sure this was the cause of the tree creature's madness, but instead Greywood turned and ambled back to the place where Legolas lay, Propping Legolas up against a large stone, the Ent proceeded to feed Legolas the liquid just as had been done on the island.

Panicked, Gimli grabbed Thranduil's arm as if this might stay him. "No, no, this is not right! Thranduil. I think they poison him!"

"Poison? How so?" the elf started.

"I thought it so before but now I see. There is something wrong with the water here. That is not a normal Ent draught he is being fed. A normal draught would explain Legolas's state. Remember that I spoke of the moot and what came of Legolas when he drank the Ent draught there? He merely slept - and dreamed. But here," Gimli pressed, "the Ent Draught is merged with the water of that lake!"

"I agree it is foul but-"

"The lake water is strange! There is something wrong with it! When I wore the Ring before, my eyes were compelled there. I could not look away. I was fixed, as if some power within the water kept me there. Thranduil, there is something - a presence even -within the water!"

The elf paused, as if digesting this strange news. Slowly his face grew even grimmer. "And Legolas drinks of it?"

It seemed the Ent was then satisfied in his ministrations. He lowered the cup and walked some many meters away to ply the same drink to a small shrub that somehow managed a verdant hue in this richly darkened wood of rusts and browns.

"What is he doing now?" Gimli asked, impatient and upset. The Ent wandered further away, somehow discerning there were other plants in need of his stewarding. His long strides took him dozens of meters away and he seemed to be proceeding on, moving his way along the lake shore, away from them and Legolas. It was an opening, the one he had been looking for. The dwarf nearly jumped at their good fortune. "Legolas is being left alone! It is now that we must act. We have to find a way to free him, while the opportunity is here."

"We need a plan," Thranduil said as he gathered his feet beneath him, clearly eager to do whatever he must to save his son. Whatever poisoning was occurring, it seemed enough to make him want for action. All the while his eyes had remained fixed on his son. All Gimli could see was his profile, but that was enough for him to note the strain of the elf's features.

"What do you propose?" Gimli asked, ashamed to admit he could think of none else but to rush forth and snatch his friend away.

Thranduil's lips formed a thin line as his eyes narrowed. It was almost as if his mind was ticking through an inventory of options and his thoughts alit on one. He nodded and turned to fully face the dwarf. "I will create a distraction," he said.

"A distraction," the dwarf echoed. And in saying it, Gimli's mind seemed to fix on the elf's plan, seeing it clearly revealed as he spoke.

"I will turn against our path. As we know, the Huorns will try to stop me. Hopefully they will trumpet out and Mithtaur will come to see what it is they clamor about. That will leave Legolas here for you to draw him back," Thranduil continued.

"And what if he takes Legolas with him when seeks out the source of alarm?"

"Then I shall be caught," Thranduil frowned, but he shrugged this doubt away. "What is important is we try. I cannot imagine we will have a better chance to free him on our own. Galadriel said we had not much more time, and I can see now what she meant. It is not that he is drugged, it is that he is poisoned. That is what I feel of him. That is how he dies."

"Are we wise to try?" Gimli asked in a brief moment of doubt. "I am the one who can move the trees through my mastery of the Ring."

"I think that is a skill better used to get Legolas out of here once he's been retrieved. Besides, I am the one who shares a resemblance to Legolas. I stand a better chance of catching the Huorn's attention because of that. They might think it is he who tries to escape whereas you are a dwarf who suddenly can move trees by aid of a Ring."

Thranduil looked pointedly once more to his son. "I think time is working against us. Look at him. Look at how he breathes." Then clapping a hand to the dwarf's shoulder he said, "Just remember that if you are threatened, you must use the Ring."

"First you say 'Use It.' Then you say 'Don't use It.' Now you say 'Use It again.'" Gimli groused, but he did not mean it. He was simply biding his time as he watched Greywood amble slowly away.

"It is a dangerous thing, Friend Dwarf," Thranduil admonished quietly and Gimli felt a sudden surge of affection for this elf.

"As is what you do," he replied, then added, "Do you presume to take Legolas's place?"

"I presume not to be caught," the elf quipped, and the slight humor lightened Gimli's heart. "I will hide in the burrow of the dead tree where you and Legolas rested if I can reach it. But should I be trapped, I will not hesitate to switch places with my son, Gimli. Do not worry for me though. Get Legolas out of there, that is all I ask." He saw the expression the dwarf wore and he laughed softly. "I do not intend to remain kept. I have mobility where my son clearly does not."

"Legolas's immobility came as a result of being held by that tree lord. It seems to me he delivered it when Legolas sought to flee," Gimli reminded.

"I will be safe," Thranduil said as he shifted in his crouched position.

"And when would you presume we begin?" Gimli asked, eyeing the Ent once more.

"Now," the elf said, and then he was gone.

Gimli began to protest but knew he was arguing with no one. And so he watched instead, waiting for the opening he needed to rescue his friend.

TBC