A/N: Ok, so it was a long time again. But it's quite a long chapter (by my
standards) and I have two readers! Yee! Well, I'm going to sit in a corner
and do some homework now. Happy, happy, joy, joy.
The forest had placed itself in a small valley and the two ponies were carefully crawling their way down but still slipping in the mud. Sam and Merry's mount started a long slide when it was halfway down the slope. It scrambled backwards in vain and the speed only increased. It's back legs slipped and it sat down in the mud, though that did nothing to the speed. Merry slipped off the back, closely followed by Sam while the pony skidded faster and faster towards the awaiting thorns.
The pony let out a terrible scream of terror as it plunged towards the forest. Its eye fixed on a thorn pointing towards its chest. The thorn found its mark.
"Brandy!" yelled Sam as he scrambled down behind his faithful steed. He carefully approached it where it stood, swaying slightly. He reached out the pony's shoulder and patted it, shushing it with calming words. The pony snickered softly as its knees buckled and it collapsed further into the thorn bushes.
Sam wiped a shocked tear from his eye and walked a little closer to the body "B-brandy?" he called. The sound fell on deaf ears. Sam turned away from the sickening sight. The thorns were long enough to go right through the poor pony's body. His heart went out to Hal, who had seen in his own sister impaled on these very thorns and he whispered a small prayer that Pippin had not come to the same end.
Merry slid slowly down beside Sam on his bottom. His eyes were fixated on the gruesome sight until he, too, could look no longer.
Finally, Frodo carefully led his pony to the base of the hill, his eyes avoiding the sight completely. His pony's eyes were wide with fright and its ears were flat against its head. Frodo reached an arm over its back and buried his face in its neck.
"Shh, Whiskey. Calm down now, shh." He whispered and the pony responded by relaxing a little but its ears were still ringing with its brother's final scream.
"We must find a way in." Said Merry, "Give me a leg up Sam." He said. Knowing that he needed his strength for once they were inside the forest and there was already so very little of it.
***
Pippin wrenched his gaze from the floor and turned his head upward and looked to the woman's face. His eyes bypassed all of her features and locked straight into her eyes. They were deep wells of nothingness. They were like the eyes of an Ent, only, empty.
She had no pupil, no iris, even the whites of her eyes couldn't even be seen. Pippin's eyes were drawn into hers, like she had sucked them in to try and fill the emptiness inside her own. Pippin lost himself inside those eyes. They gave out a dark light that swirled around him. He was suffocated, drowning, flying, and floating all at once. He couldn't stand the feeling of dying a thousand deaths and then being brought back into the world another thousand times over.
Despair was thronging through him as each second brought another spasm of ecstasy. He was losing his life, his innocence, and his very essence. Then he was rebuilt, interwoven with something else, the very world around him. His head snapped back down to the ground, which was suddenly much closer. He was on his knees and shaking with fright, anger, sadness, laughter, he was so confused! What had happened?
Pippin glanced around, but he didn't. He didn't need to glance around because he could already see everywhere, from the darkened sky, to the mud covered ground. He could see the trees before and behind him and they were no longer shrouded in darkness.
He reached out to a tree beside him and was shocked to see his skin glowing. He looked for a source of the light but could find none other than himself. He suddenly realised that his injuries were missing. The throbbing had been silenced and it no longer hurt if he bent his arm in a certain way. A grin made its way onto his face and to his delight, the light of his skin grew brighter. A small chuckle escaped his lips, but he quickly silenced it, he never remembered his voice sounding as, well, Elvish as that. He had lost his charming Tookish accent, or indeed, any kind of hobbity accent and his voice had become flowing and smooth. It was by no means a nasty sound, but Pippin was sad to have lost one of his defining features. If he was going to call for help, how was anyone to know it was he? The light around him took on a bluer tone, which made him giggle in his foreign voice again, in turn, making the light brighten again.
'Back to the clearing we go.' Thought Pippin and he found that he knew exactly where it was. In his head, he found a map of the forest. Somehow, he knew every tree and bush and which direction they were in. He also knew that he couldn't escape as there was something around the outside of the forest that would prevent him from leaving but he passed it so long ago he couldn't remember what it was. But these weren't his memories, he couldn't have passed the edge of the forest more than a day previous could he?
Still, he made his way towards the clearing and revelled in his heightened senses. He could feel every stick, twig and leaf under his leathery feet, which, he couldn't help thinking, defeated the point of them being leathery all together. He stood on a particularly sharp stick and wished he hadn't. He hopped up to a tree and lent on it while he pulled the offending twig out of his foot. That was certainly nothing to be hurt by, it had barely scratched the surface of his foot! Pippin completely understood, for the first time in his life, why big people wore boots. He'd have to watch where he put his feet from now on.
***
Frodo was sitting in front of Merry and Sam was carefully leading them, holding tightly to the reins. Merry heard a faint neigh and he looked up to the source of it at the top of the hill. He could see a faint silhouette of a pony rearing and Whiskey snickered in response. Could that be Brandy? Why was he not solid like the other ghosts? And, come to think of it, where were Drogo and Primula?
Merry opened his mouth to say something but an almost silent whisper in his ear halted him.
"We are still here. Say nothing about it." It was so quiet Merry couldn't tell whose voice it was, but he took its advice and kept quiet.
Another twenty minutes passed in silence and there were now near halfway around the forest and getting back towards civilisation.
"It's no use walking 'round the whole forest if all we're going to find is thorns and bracken, even this grass is getting hard on my legs, they'll be fair on bleeding if we carry on much more." It wasn't like Sam to complain but all four of them (even the pony) could see the truth in his words. "I see some gardens up ahead, perhaps not the best tended of all gardens but there must be someone's home there and I say we go ask for help."
"Good idea Sam," agreed Frodo, "I for one could do with getting away from this gloomy forest."
They were agreed. They made their way to the nearest garden and it was not in a good shape. The fence was broken and being pulled at by brambles and blackberry bushes that looked as though they had once been in orderly rows. Strawberries were sprouting everywhere and raspberry and black currant plants were fighting each other for dominance. Deadly nightshade was covering every piece of spare ground and plant, strangling anything in its way and an old ivy plant had sprung to life and was slowly squeezing the life out of an apple tree.
It was like nature had gone mad. The plants were ignoring the time of year and blossoming and fruiting all at once. Even the plants that were plainly dying were joining the huge struggle to reach the forest before any other.
Sam took a stick from the base of the apple tree and beat a way through the tangle of deadwood and living thorns. Sam soon worked up a good sweat and once he and the others on the pony had got through there was a streak down his back for all to see.
Frodo dismounted from the pony now that they were able to walk freely without being tripped by a plant. They walked to the front of the house, but that looked little better than the back. The door was slightly open and it had obviously been that way for many a day judging by the piles of dirt and leaves inside.
The next hole along looked a little more promising. There was furniture inside and even a coat hung over the back of a chair. Frodo knocked on the door and waited. No reply. He knocked again, but louder. Still nothing. He then practically banged on the door with all his might. They listened for sound inside but there was none, not even a shuffling of feet. They did, however, get a reaction from the hole next door.
A middle-aged hobbit lady stuck her head out of the door a fiercely whispered to them.
"Stop your noise or you'll wake the plants!" This was met by blank and confused looks so she continued in a softer voice, "Come on in and I'll explain."
The forest had placed itself in a small valley and the two ponies were carefully crawling their way down but still slipping in the mud. Sam and Merry's mount started a long slide when it was halfway down the slope. It scrambled backwards in vain and the speed only increased. It's back legs slipped and it sat down in the mud, though that did nothing to the speed. Merry slipped off the back, closely followed by Sam while the pony skidded faster and faster towards the awaiting thorns.
The pony let out a terrible scream of terror as it plunged towards the forest. Its eye fixed on a thorn pointing towards its chest. The thorn found its mark.
"Brandy!" yelled Sam as he scrambled down behind his faithful steed. He carefully approached it where it stood, swaying slightly. He reached out the pony's shoulder and patted it, shushing it with calming words. The pony snickered softly as its knees buckled and it collapsed further into the thorn bushes.
Sam wiped a shocked tear from his eye and walked a little closer to the body "B-brandy?" he called. The sound fell on deaf ears. Sam turned away from the sickening sight. The thorns were long enough to go right through the poor pony's body. His heart went out to Hal, who had seen in his own sister impaled on these very thorns and he whispered a small prayer that Pippin had not come to the same end.
Merry slid slowly down beside Sam on his bottom. His eyes were fixated on the gruesome sight until he, too, could look no longer.
Finally, Frodo carefully led his pony to the base of the hill, his eyes avoiding the sight completely. His pony's eyes were wide with fright and its ears were flat against its head. Frodo reached an arm over its back and buried his face in its neck.
"Shh, Whiskey. Calm down now, shh." He whispered and the pony responded by relaxing a little but its ears were still ringing with its brother's final scream.
"We must find a way in." Said Merry, "Give me a leg up Sam." He said. Knowing that he needed his strength for once they were inside the forest and there was already so very little of it.
***
Pippin wrenched his gaze from the floor and turned his head upward and looked to the woman's face. His eyes bypassed all of her features and locked straight into her eyes. They were deep wells of nothingness. They were like the eyes of an Ent, only, empty.
She had no pupil, no iris, even the whites of her eyes couldn't even be seen. Pippin's eyes were drawn into hers, like she had sucked them in to try and fill the emptiness inside her own. Pippin lost himself inside those eyes. They gave out a dark light that swirled around him. He was suffocated, drowning, flying, and floating all at once. He couldn't stand the feeling of dying a thousand deaths and then being brought back into the world another thousand times over.
Despair was thronging through him as each second brought another spasm of ecstasy. He was losing his life, his innocence, and his very essence. Then he was rebuilt, interwoven with something else, the very world around him. His head snapped back down to the ground, which was suddenly much closer. He was on his knees and shaking with fright, anger, sadness, laughter, he was so confused! What had happened?
Pippin glanced around, but he didn't. He didn't need to glance around because he could already see everywhere, from the darkened sky, to the mud covered ground. He could see the trees before and behind him and they were no longer shrouded in darkness.
He reached out to a tree beside him and was shocked to see his skin glowing. He looked for a source of the light but could find none other than himself. He suddenly realised that his injuries were missing. The throbbing had been silenced and it no longer hurt if he bent his arm in a certain way. A grin made its way onto his face and to his delight, the light of his skin grew brighter. A small chuckle escaped his lips, but he quickly silenced it, he never remembered his voice sounding as, well, Elvish as that. He had lost his charming Tookish accent, or indeed, any kind of hobbity accent and his voice had become flowing and smooth. It was by no means a nasty sound, but Pippin was sad to have lost one of his defining features. If he was going to call for help, how was anyone to know it was he? The light around him took on a bluer tone, which made him giggle in his foreign voice again, in turn, making the light brighten again.
'Back to the clearing we go.' Thought Pippin and he found that he knew exactly where it was. In his head, he found a map of the forest. Somehow, he knew every tree and bush and which direction they were in. He also knew that he couldn't escape as there was something around the outside of the forest that would prevent him from leaving but he passed it so long ago he couldn't remember what it was. But these weren't his memories, he couldn't have passed the edge of the forest more than a day previous could he?
Still, he made his way towards the clearing and revelled in his heightened senses. He could feel every stick, twig and leaf under his leathery feet, which, he couldn't help thinking, defeated the point of them being leathery all together. He stood on a particularly sharp stick and wished he hadn't. He hopped up to a tree and lent on it while he pulled the offending twig out of his foot. That was certainly nothing to be hurt by, it had barely scratched the surface of his foot! Pippin completely understood, for the first time in his life, why big people wore boots. He'd have to watch where he put his feet from now on.
***
Frodo was sitting in front of Merry and Sam was carefully leading them, holding tightly to the reins. Merry heard a faint neigh and he looked up to the source of it at the top of the hill. He could see a faint silhouette of a pony rearing and Whiskey snickered in response. Could that be Brandy? Why was he not solid like the other ghosts? And, come to think of it, where were Drogo and Primula?
Merry opened his mouth to say something but an almost silent whisper in his ear halted him.
"We are still here. Say nothing about it." It was so quiet Merry couldn't tell whose voice it was, but he took its advice and kept quiet.
Another twenty minutes passed in silence and there were now near halfway around the forest and getting back towards civilisation.
"It's no use walking 'round the whole forest if all we're going to find is thorns and bracken, even this grass is getting hard on my legs, they'll be fair on bleeding if we carry on much more." It wasn't like Sam to complain but all four of them (even the pony) could see the truth in his words. "I see some gardens up ahead, perhaps not the best tended of all gardens but there must be someone's home there and I say we go ask for help."
"Good idea Sam," agreed Frodo, "I for one could do with getting away from this gloomy forest."
They were agreed. They made their way to the nearest garden and it was not in a good shape. The fence was broken and being pulled at by brambles and blackberry bushes that looked as though they had once been in orderly rows. Strawberries were sprouting everywhere and raspberry and black currant plants were fighting each other for dominance. Deadly nightshade was covering every piece of spare ground and plant, strangling anything in its way and an old ivy plant had sprung to life and was slowly squeezing the life out of an apple tree.
It was like nature had gone mad. The plants were ignoring the time of year and blossoming and fruiting all at once. Even the plants that were plainly dying were joining the huge struggle to reach the forest before any other.
Sam took a stick from the base of the apple tree and beat a way through the tangle of deadwood and living thorns. Sam soon worked up a good sweat and once he and the others on the pony had got through there was a streak down his back for all to see.
Frodo dismounted from the pony now that they were able to walk freely without being tripped by a plant. They walked to the front of the house, but that looked little better than the back. The door was slightly open and it had obviously been that way for many a day judging by the piles of dirt and leaves inside.
The next hole along looked a little more promising. There was furniture inside and even a coat hung over the back of a chair. Frodo knocked on the door and waited. No reply. He knocked again, but louder. Still nothing. He then practically banged on the door with all his might. They listened for sound inside but there was none, not even a shuffling of feet. They did, however, get a reaction from the hole next door.
A middle-aged hobbit lady stuck her head out of the door a fiercely whispered to them.
"Stop your noise or you'll wake the plants!" This was met by blank and confused looks so she continued in a softer voice, "Come on in and I'll explain."