Chapter Thirteen
It reeked something awful on that hill.
Willow clutched at Legolas, bringing herself closer to the Elf. She wanted to bury her face in his back, to not have to see what lay ahead. There was this horrible sinking feeling in her stomach, one she didn't like at all. Desperately she prayed that her hobbits were all right. Though, it seemed not all that likely right now. There were tears threatening in her eyes as she thought on the guilty look on Eomer's face. It hadn't served to increase her hope in the least.
They all stopped, Legolas leaping off the horse in a graceful movement. She waited for him to turn to her, helping her to the ground carefully. He paused, horrified face staring at the sight before them before he turned to her. She grasped his hand in hers, her eyes going to the object of their attention.
The smouldering remains of the Orcs that took her friends. Willow looked at the burnt pile with distaste in her eyes. The redhead really, really hated Orcs. They were horrible creatures and they deserved this. But if her friends got caught up in the same fate as them well . . . Willow wasn't quite sure what she would do, but it wouldn't be pretty.
Not in the least.
She heard the others behind her, waiting patiently for them to start sifting through the heap of bodies because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it. It smelled bad, and looked icky. Besides, Willow had had enough of bodies enough in her life.
Gimli was the first to reach it, using his axe to push aside various body parts, looking for anything. Her stomach churned at the sight of arms and heads being tossed aside carelessly, but still she wouldn't turn her head away. She watched, still holding onto Legolas's hand, feeling colder and colder as the minutes ticked by. Aragorn paced off to the side, waiting on the dwarf as well.
A mournful cry from Gimli broke her heart. She didn't even turn to see what the dwarf held up for them to see, only hearing him mutter something about belts. She spun around, throwing herself completely into her Elf's arms. She buried her face in his chest, tears starting to fall down her cheeks as she mourned for her friends. Soft words from above caused her tears to increase, the prayer from Legolas almost too much to bear.
A kick and roar of rage was Aragorn's contribution to the grieving. Willow gave a gasp at the sound of his voice, ringing loud and clear across the sky. It horrifying in its rage and heart-breaking in the final note, trailing off into nothing.
Willow's hand went inside her cloak, clutching at the pendant they had found only a few days ago. She had so much hope back then, and now there was nothing left. Her friends were gone, just adding to the ever- growing list of fallen comrades. Her heart was aching in her chest and her throat hurt from all the crying she was doing.
She was so caught up in her grief she didn't even hear Aragorn's first words. The redhead lifted her head, rubbing absently at the tears on her face as she turned to regard her friend.
"What?" she demanded.
"A hobbit lay here," he repeated for her, louder than before. "And the other here."
He pointed to the ground, waving his hand over the land before him. Willow frowned, disentangling herself from her Elf and making her way to stand behind Aragorn.
"How do you . . . "
"They crawled, their hands bound," Aragorn cut her off, skittering over the ground. He stopped, hands clawing in the dirt until they pulled a frayed cord from the dust. She felt a hope beginning to stir in her heart, following behind the man, Legolas right on her heels. She looked at the frayed cord, swallowing a lump in her throat as she thought on her friends, how scared they must have been.
"Their bonds were cut," he continued, rising to his knees. "They ran, and were followed."
Followed? She didn't like the sounds of that at all.
"And they ran," he murmured, taking off into a light jog. "They ran straight into.."
He stopped suddenly, causing the redhead following him to ram into him from behind. She gave a frustrated growl, coming to stand beside him. Legolas came to stand on her other side, mute as Aragorn as they stared shocked at the sight before them.
"Fangorn Forest," came the breathless gasp from Gimli. Willow frowned, looking between her companions in confusion. Her eyes went back to the trees in front of her, not knowing really what the big deal was. It was a forest; they had one back in Sunnydale. Trees were generally not something to be feared.
"What madness drove them in there?" Gimli continued to mutter in a horrified kind of voice.
"It's just a forest," Willow frowned, looking between her companions expectantly. "Just a bunch of trees."
"This forest is old," Legolas informed. "Very old, and very dangerous."
"What? The trees are temper-mental?" Willow giggled.
"Very much so," Aragorn answered seriously. "Or at least that is what the stories say. We would do well to get Merry and Pippin out of there quickly."
Willow nodded, looking back up at the forest in question. Sure it looked creepy enough. The trees were tall and all tangled up in one another. Leaves and vines hung all over the place, the forest floor not dotted with even a speck of the sunlight from above. Yeah, it was creepy, but it was still just a forest. And staring at it wouldn't make it any less creepy or any more frightening. They had to move.
She was the first to step forward, eyes warily trained on the treetops as she went forward. Legolas was right at her side, placing a hand on the small of her back as he followed her, his eyes peering deep into the forest for the slightest signs of danger.
Only when she passed the first tree did she even begin to understand what the others had been talking about. She stepped right up beside it, and felt it. She felt the tree, felt its age, feelings, and its thoughts. It had thoughts!
A gasp left her lips and the redhead back-pedaled at the last second. Legolas was quick to wrap her up in his arms and pull her a good distance from the woods. Aragorn and Gimli broke out into curses and murmurs of concern. But that was all secondary to her. Her eyes were still trained on the tree, on all of the trees. A slight groaning noise touched her ears as she stared and Willow just knew.
The trees were talking.
"Willow, are you all right?"
Poor Elf sounded all frightened and worried. She nodded, slowly coming back to herself. She stepped lightly out of Legolas's arms, eyes never leaving the forest before her.
"They're alive," she whispered faintly. "And they're pissed beyond imagination."
"Willow?"
This came from Gimli. The dwarf was glancing up at her in concern while shooting the forest dirty looks.
"Is it dangerous?" the dwarf questioned. Willow nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"It's very dangerous in there," the redhead confirmed. "And our two friends are in there, defenceless."
That got not only the dwarf worried, but the others as well. Willow squared her shoulders and marched forcefully back up to the forest, all the while calling over her shoulder.
"Come on," she ordered. "I am not leaving Merry and Pippin in there by themselves. They might need our help."
She heard them follow, hearing the mumbled question Gimli asked Aragorn.
"But who will come to our aid should we come to danger in there?"
She pretended not to hear but in her mind, she was agreeing with the dwarf. They get in trouble in there, they were screwed.
*****
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep . . ."
"Willow?"
The redhead started, turning to see Legolas right behind her. She blushed, thinking over what she had said.
"It's a poem," she shrugged. "Back home, by Robert Frost. I wished I could remember more of it, like the title. One of those things that bother me until the end of time."
The Elf only smiled, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. She returned the squeeze, grateful for his presence. The woods were lovely, they were dark, and they sure as hell were deep too. But the trees were also scary as hell. The trees had emotions, thoughts, hell they had speech! She heard and felt it all, knowing the underlying menace of it all.
Walking among them was fraying her nerves. She kept expecting a branch to lash out and attack one of them. In her mind's eyes she kept imagining the trees coming to life and chasing her and her companions through the woods. It was stupid really, but she couldn't help but be worried about it. The trees here, they weren't dormant. They were active, and remember what she said about them being pissed as hell?
Gimli found something on a leaf, looking closely at it. He rubbed some of the substance on his fingers, then bringing it up to his tongue. His face screwed up in distaste and he spat viciously.
"Orc blood," he informed them, face set in anger. Willow nodded, oddly wondering why on earth Gimli knew what Orc blood tasted like. And whether or not she really wanted to.
"These trees are old," Legolas murmured, bringing her out of her thoughts. She went to seek him out, knowing he had run off somewhere. He was doing that a lot here, strangely at home in the woods of psycho trees. The Elf was trotting between the trees, eyes ever on the treetops.
"There are much memory here," he continued, before turning to look Willow in the eye meaningfully.
"And much anger."
She only nodded, closing her eyes to feel the trees once more. She heard the same odd groaning as before. Her friends tensed, the sound of metal ringing letting her know they had drawn their weapons.
"It's the trees," she informed them, eyes still closed as she listened to the ever increasing groaning of the trees. She kept perfectly still, trying to discern what they were saying. She heard Aragorn telling Gimli to lower his axe. She didn't have to look to see the dwarf was looking kind of sheepish. A small smile curved her lips at the thought, one that fled quickly.
There was something in these woods, something other than the trees and their anger. There was magic here, it felt almost familiar in an odd sense.
She opened her eyes, seeking Legolas immediately. She made her way quietly to the Elf's side, going to her tiptoes to whisper in his ears.
"There's some magic in these woods," she whispered, so low that only the Elf could hear it. "I think it's following us."
He nodded, clasping her hand in his own as he walked over to where Aragorn stood, searching the forest floor for any sign of their friends.
Aragorn the Elf started, leaning in close to his companion. We are not alone.
Willow motioned to Gimli with her hand, the dwarf complying silently. She idly wondered once more how she understood all the Elvish being said around her. It never ceased to amaze her the sheer grasp she had of the language, though she sure as hell couldn't speak it on her own. She had tried once. It had ended badly.
Aragorn looked up from the ground, grimly nodding at Legolas's statement.
"The White Wizard," he hissed through clenched teeth. Willow tensed, thoughts going immediately to Saruman. If that wizard was stupid enough to show his face anywhere near Willow, then all the better. She was going to hex him into oblivion, and do it with a smile on her face.
She heard her companions shuffling ever so slightly, weapons being readied once more.
"Do not let him speak," Aragorn advised everyone. "Or he will put a spell on you."
She felt like snorting. Put a spell on her? The old man could sure as hell try, but it wouldn't do him any good. Probably would only make her angrier, which wasn't going to be good for the White Wizard.
"Now!"
She almost missed Aragorn's whispered command. The redhead turned with the others, sensing the power before she even saw the figure. But at the last second, she hung back, mind racing with the presence of the power. It was really, really familiar, but it wasn't Saruman. She knew enough by now to be able to distinguish that old fart's power.
But her friends charged on, Legolas letting loose an arrow and Gimli swinging his axe. But as quick as lightning, the man hidden by the light of the sun, moved his staff to and fro, knocking the weapons aside before they could even reach him. Aragorn's sword began to sizzle and the man had to drop it lest his hand come to much damage.
The figure stopped at that, staff going to rest at his side harmlessly. The redhead stepped forward, shielding her eyes from the bright glow shining about the man.
"You came," he spoke before she could. "You came in search of two hobbits, did you not?"
"Yeah," she affirmed, eyes squinting as they picked up the outline of long white hair and a long white beard. Saruman's trademarks no doubt, but again, it wasn't him.
"Where are they?" she heard Aragorn demand. "They met someone they did not expect to meet," the white figure answered, a bit of amusement in his tone. "Does that help ease your mind?"
"Who are you?" she demanded, stepping even closer to him. "Step out of that damn light!"
There was no quirky comeback like she had been expecting. Instead, the figure complied, stepping out of the blinding light and into her line of vision. As he moved, he switched his white staff to the other hand, looking down at the four warriors with humour glinting in his eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat and she stumbled back a step. Aragorn was the one to catch her, as awestruck as she was. Gimli and Legolas were bowing respectfully at their feet. But Willow couldn't make her legs work enough to either join them or even approach the figure again.
"We saw you fall," Aragorn managed to croak, breaking the silence of the forest. "You fell . . ."
"I did," came the confirmation. "Through fire and shadow. Until finally I cornered the beast on the last cliff top. I struck the monster down, the balrog falling to death over the cliff. And then I was spent, collapsing in the snow for what seemed like years. There, my mind began to drift, through space and time. Until finally, I was returned to myself, returned to my body. I was sent back to complete my mission. I come to you now, at the turn of the tide."
Tears were spilling freely down her face at this point. She found her legs had recovered their strength and she ventured closer to the man before her.
"Gandalf," she spoke in a tearful tone. The man started, turning wide grey eyes her way. A small smile broke out over his face as he looked at her.
"Gandalf," he repeated, as if to himself. "Yes, that was my name. I was called Gandalf the Grey."
She nodded, trying to swallow her tears as they came. The wizard smiled kindly at her, patting her cheek in a fatherly fashion.
"I am Gandalf the White now," he confided in her. She giggled, rolling her eyes. Way to state the obvious.
She threw her arms around his neck in the next second, hugging him fiercely. The wizard started, standing awkwardly for a second before letting out a few chuckles. His arms went around the redhead, patting her back and holding her close.
"It is all right dear Lady Firelight," he murmured to her. "Everything will be all right, but we have things to do."
She understood his not so subtle hint, releasing him and sparing him a grin.
"You think I would be used to friends coming back from the dead by now," she laughed. "But it always gets me, time after time."
He roared with laughter at that, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he stepped closer to their companions. Gimli came forward, clasping the wizard's hand in his own.
"Gandalf," he choked out, tears in his eyes. Gandalf smiled at the dwarf, shaking his hand slightly and then turning to Legolas. The white wizard smiled, handing the still giddy Willow over to the Elf. She swore she saw him wink approvingly at the Elf.
"Come," Gandalf ordered, clapping his hands together. "We have much to do. We must make for Edoras. Saruman's eye has turned on Rohan and the destruction of its people. We must stop him before the final stages of this war can even begin."
And with that, he was walking swiftly through the trees, like the bombshell of his appearance hadn't stunned the hell out of the remaining Fellowship. Willow cleared her head and trotted after Gandalf.
"The hobbits-" she started.
"With a friend of mine," the wizard answered abruptly. "They are being kept safe, fear not my lady. You shall see them again, but perhaps not as soon as you would like."
She stopped, waiting for the others to join her. She looked to Aragorn for some sort of guidance. The man only shrugged before trotting after Gandalf. Gimli followed him, muttering something about finally getting out of these god-forsaken woods.
Legolas grasped her hand and tugged her along.
"Gandalf said we will see them again," he told her. "And Gandalf keeps his word. Come then Willow, we have other things to attend to."
The redhead nodded, jogging alongside her Elf. Her eyes went briefly deep into the forest as they left it, thinking over what Gandalf had said. She certainly hoped his friend kept her hobbits safe.
Or there would be hell to pay.
*****
It reeked something awful on that hill.
Willow clutched at Legolas, bringing herself closer to the Elf. She wanted to bury her face in his back, to not have to see what lay ahead. There was this horrible sinking feeling in her stomach, one she didn't like at all. Desperately she prayed that her hobbits were all right. Though, it seemed not all that likely right now. There were tears threatening in her eyes as she thought on the guilty look on Eomer's face. It hadn't served to increase her hope in the least.
They all stopped, Legolas leaping off the horse in a graceful movement. She waited for him to turn to her, helping her to the ground carefully. He paused, horrified face staring at the sight before them before he turned to her. She grasped his hand in hers, her eyes going to the object of their attention.
The smouldering remains of the Orcs that took her friends. Willow looked at the burnt pile with distaste in her eyes. The redhead really, really hated Orcs. They were horrible creatures and they deserved this. But if her friends got caught up in the same fate as them well . . . Willow wasn't quite sure what she would do, but it wouldn't be pretty.
Not in the least.
She heard the others behind her, waiting patiently for them to start sifting through the heap of bodies because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it. It smelled bad, and looked icky. Besides, Willow had had enough of bodies enough in her life.
Gimli was the first to reach it, using his axe to push aside various body parts, looking for anything. Her stomach churned at the sight of arms and heads being tossed aside carelessly, but still she wouldn't turn her head away. She watched, still holding onto Legolas's hand, feeling colder and colder as the minutes ticked by. Aragorn paced off to the side, waiting on the dwarf as well.
A mournful cry from Gimli broke her heart. She didn't even turn to see what the dwarf held up for them to see, only hearing him mutter something about belts. She spun around, throwing herself completely into her Elf's arms. She buried her face in his chest, tears starting to fall down her cheeks as she mourned for her friends. Soft words from above caused her tears to increase, the prayer from Legolas almost too much to bear.
A kick and roar of rage was Aragorn's contribution to the grieving. Willow gave a gasp at the sound of his voice, ringing loud and clear across the sky. It horrifying in its rage and heart-breaking in the final note, trailing off into nothing.
Willow's hand went inside her cloak, clutching at the pendant they had found only a few days ago. She had so much hope back then, and now there was nothing left. Her friends were gone, just adding to the ever- growing list of fallen comrades. Her heart was aching in her chest and her throat hurt from all the crying she was doing.
She was so caught up in her grief she didn't even hear Aragorn's first words. The redhead lifted her head, rubbing absently at the tears on her face as she turned to regard her friend.
"What?" she demanded.
"A hobbit lay here," he repeated for her, louder than before. "And the other here."
He pointed to the ground, waving his hand over the land before him. Willow frowned, disentangling herself from her Elf and making her way to stand behind Aragorn.
"How do you . . . "
"They crawled, their hands bound," Aragorn cut her off, skittering over the ground. He stopped, hands clawing in the dirt until they pulled a frayed cord from the dust. She felt a hope beginning to stir in her heart, following behind the man, Legolas right on her heels. She looked at the frayed cord, swallowing a lump in her throat as she thought on her friends, how scared they must have been.
"Their bonds were cut," he continued, rising to his knees. "They ran, and were followed."
Followed? She didn't like the sounds of that at all.
"And they ran," he murmured, taking off into a light jog. "They ran straight into.."
He stopped suddenly, causing the redhead following him to ram into him from behind. She gave a frustrated growl, coming to stand beside him. Legolas came to stand on her other side, mute as Aragorn as they stared shocked at the sight before them.
"Fangorn Forest," came the breathless gasp from Gimli. Willow frowned, looking between her companions in confusion. Her eyes went back to the trees in front of her, not knowing really what the big deal was. It was a forest; they had one back in Sunnydale. Trees were generally not something to be feared.
"What madness drove them in there?" Gimli continued to mutter in a horrified kind of voice.
"It's just a forest," Willow frowned, looking between her companions expectantly. "Just a bunch of trees."
"This forest is old," Legolas informed. "Very old, and very dangerous."
"What? The trees are temper-mental?" Willow giggled.
"Very much so," Aragorn answered seriously. "Or at least that is what the stories say. We would do well to get Merry and Pippin out of there quickly."
Willow nodded, looking back up at the forest in question. Sure it looked creepy enough. The trees were tall and all tangled up in one another. Leaves and vines hung all over the place, the forest floor not dotted with even a speck of the sunlight from above. Yeah, it was creepy, but it was still just a forest. And staring at it wouldn't make it any less creepy or any more frightening. They had to move.
She was the first to step forward, eyes warily trained on the treetops as she went forward. Legolas was right at her side, placing a hand on the small of her back as he followed her, his eyes peering deep into the forest for the slightest signs of danger.
Only when she passed the first tree did she even begin to understand what the others had been talking about. She stepped right up beside it, and felt it. She felt the tree, felt its age, feelings, and its thoughts. It had thoughts!
A gasp left her lips and the redhead back-pedaled at the last second. Legolas was quick to wrap her up in his arms and pull her a good distance from the woods. Aragorn and Gimli broke out into curses and murmurs of concern. But that was all secondary to her. Her eyes were still trained on the tree, on all of the trees. A slight groaning noise touched her ears as she stared and Willow just knew.
The trees were talking.
"Willow, are you all right?"
Poor Elf sounded all frightened and worried. She nodded, slowly coming back to herself. She stepped lightly out of Legolas's arms, eyes never leaving the forest before her.
"They're alive," she whispered faintly. "And they're pissed beyond imagination."
"Willow?"
This came from Gimli. The dwarf was glancing up at her in concern while shooting the forest dirty looks.
"Is it dangerous?" the dwarf questioned. Willow nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"It's very dangerous in there," the redhead confirmed. "And our two friends are in there, defenceless."
That got not only the dwarf worried, but the others as well. Willow squared her shoulders and marched forcefully back up to the forest, all the while calling over her shoulder.
"Come on," she ordered. "I am not leaving Merry and Pippin in there by themselves. They might need our help."
She heard them follow, hearing the mumbled question Gimli asked Aragorn.
"But who will come to our aid should we come to danger in there?"
She pretended not to hear but in her mind, she was agreeing with the dwarf. They get in trouble in there, they were screwed.
*****
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep . . ."
"Willow?"
The redhead started, turning to see Legolas right behind her. She blushed, thinking over what she had said.
"It's a poem," she shrugged. "Back home, by Robert Frost. I wished I could remember more of it, like the title. One of those things that bother me until the end of time."
The Elf only smiled, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. She returned the squeeze, grateful for his presence. The woods were lovely, they were dark, and they sure as hell were deep too. But the trees were also scary as hell. The trees had emotions, thoughts, hell they had speech! She heard and felt it all, knowing the underlying menace of it all.
Walking among them was fraying her nerves. She kept expecting a branch to lash out and attack one of them. In her mind's eyes she kept imagining the trees coming to life and chasing her and her companions through the woods. It was stupid really, but she couldn't help but be worried about it. The trees here, they weren't dormant. They were active, and remember what she said about them being pissed as hell?
Gimli found something on a leaf, looking closely at it. He rubbed some of the substance on his fingers, then bringing it up to his tongue. His face screwed up in distaste and he spat viciously.
"Orc blood," he informed them, face set in anger. Willow nodded, oddly wondering why on earth Gimli knew what Orc blood tasted like. And whether or not she really wanted to.
"These trees are old," Legolas murmured, bringing her out of her thoughts. She went to seek him out, knowing he had run off somewhere. He was doing that a lot here, strangely at home in the woods of psycho trees. The Elf was trotting between the trees, eyes ever on the treetops.
"There are much memory here," he continued, before turning to look Willow in the eye meaningfully.
"And much anger."
She only nodded, closing her eyes to feel the trees once more. She heard the same odd groaning as before. Her friends tensed, the sound of metal ringing letting her know they had drawn their weapons.
"It's the trees," she informed them, eyes still closed as she listened to the ever increasing groaning of the trees. She kept perfectly still, trying to discern what they were saying. She heard Aragorn telling Gimli to lower his axe. She didn't have to look to see the dwarf was looking kind of sheepish. A small smile curved her lips at the thought, one that fled quickly.
There was something in these woods, something other than the trees and their anger. There was magic here, it felt almost familiar in an odd sense.
She opened her eyes, seeking Legolas immediately. She made her way quietly to the Elf's side, going to her tiptoes to whisper in his ears.
"There's some magic in these woods," she whispered, so low that only the Elf could hear it. "I think it's following us."
He nodded, clasping her hand in his own as he walked over to where Aragorn stood, searching the forest floor for any sign of their friends.
Aragorn the Elf started, leaning in close to his companion. We are not alone.
Willow motioned to Gimli with her hand, the dwarf complying silently. She idly wondered once more how she understood all the Elvish being said around her. It never ceased to amaze her the sheer grasp she had of the language, though she sure as hell couldn't speak it on her own. She had tried once. It had ended badly.
Aragorn looked up from the ground, grimly nodding at Legolas's statement.
"The White Wizard," he hissed through clenched teeth. Willow tensed, thoughts going immediately to Saruman. If that wizard was stupid enough to show his face anywhere near Willow, then all the better. She was going to hex him into oblivion, and do it with a smile on her face.
She heard her companions shuffling ever so slightly, weapons being readied once more.
"Do not let him speak," Aragorn advised everyone. "Or he will put a spell on you."
She felt like snorting. Put a spell on her? The old man could sure as hell try, but it wouldn't do him any good. Probably would only make her angrier, which wasn't going to be good for the White Wizard.
"Now!"
She almost missed Aragorn's whispered command. The redhead turned with the others, sensing the power before she even saw the figure. But at the last second, she hung back, mind racing with the presence of the power. It was really, really familiar, but it wasn't Saruman. She knew enough by now to be able to distinguish that old fart's power.
But her friends charged on, Legolas letting loose an arrow and Gimli swinging his axe. But as quick as lightning, the man hidden by the light of the sun, moved his staff to and fro, knocking the weapons aside before they could even reach him. Aragorn's sword began to sizzle and the man had to drop it lest his hand come to much damage.
The figure stopped at that, staff going to rest at his side harmlessly. The redhead stepped forward, shielding her eyes from the bright glow shining about the man.
"You came," he spoke before she could. "You came in search of two hobbits, did you not?"
"Yeah," she affirmed, eyes squinting as they picked up the outline of long white hair and a long white beard. Saruman's trademarks no doubt, but again, it wasn't him.
"Where are they?" she heard Aragorn demand. "They met someone they did not expect to meet," the white figure answered, a bit of amusement in his tone. "Does that help ease your mind?"
"Who are you?" she demanded, stepping even closer to him. "Step out of that damn light!"
There was no quirky comeback like she had been expecting. Instead, the figure complied, stepping out of the blinding light and into her line of vision. As he moved, he switched his white staff to the other hand, looking down at the four warriors with humour glinting in his eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat and she stumbled back a step. Aragorn was the one to catch her, as awestruck as she was. Gimli and Legolas were bowing respectfully at their feet. But Willow couldn't make her legs work enough to either join them or even approach the figure again.
"We saw you fall," Aragorn managed to croak, breaking the silence of the forest. "You fell . . ."
"I did," came the confirmation. "Through fire and shadow. Until finally I cornered the beast on the last cliff top. I struck the monster down, the balrog falling to death over the cliff. And then I was spent, collapsing in the snow for what seemed like years. There, my mind began to drift, through space and time. Until finally, I was returned to myself, returned to my body. I was sent back to complete my mission. I come to you now, at the turn of the tide."
Tears were spilling freely down her face at this point. She found her legs had recovered their strength and she ventured closer to the man before her.
"Gandalf," she spoke in a tearful tone. The man started, turning wide grey eyes her way. A small smile broke out over his face as he looked at her.
"Gandalf," he repeated, as if to himself. "Yes, that was my name. I was called Gandalf the Grey."
She nodded, trying to swallow her tears as they came. The wizard smiled kindly at her, patting her cheek in a fatherly fashion.
"I am Gandalf the White now," he confided in her. She giggled, rolling her eyes. Way to state the obvious.
She threw her arms around his neck in the next second, hugging him fiercely. The wizard started, standing awkwardly for a second before letting out a few chuckles. His arms went around the redhead, patting her back and holding her close.
"It is all right dear Lady Firelight," he murmured to her. "Everything will be all right, but we have things to do."
She understood his not so subtle hint, releasing him and sparing him a grin.
"You think I would be used to friends coming back from the dead by now," she laughed. "But it always gets me, time after time."
He roared with laughter at that, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he stepped closer to their companions. Gimli came forward, clasping the wizard's hand in his own.
"Gandalf," he choked out, tears in his eyes. Gandalf smiled at the dwarf, shaking his hand slightly and then turning to Legolas. The white wizard smiled, handing the still giddy Willow over to the Elf. She swore she saw him wink approvingly at the Elf.
"Come," Gandalf ordered, clapping his hands together. "We have much to do. We must make for Edoras. Saruman's eye has turned on Rohan and the destruction of its people. We must stop him before the final stages of this war can even begin."
And with that, he was walking swiftly through the trees, like the bombshell of his appearance hadn't stunned the hell out of the remaining Fellowship. Willow cleared her head and trotted after Gandalf.
"The hobbits-" she started.
"With a friend of mine," the wizard answered abruptly. "They are being kept safe, fear not my lady. You shall see them again, but perhaps not as soon as you would like."
She stopped, waiting for the others to join her. She looked to Aragorn for some sort of guidance. The man only shrugged before trotting after Gandalf. Gimli followed him, muttering something about finally getting out of these god-forsaken woods.
Legolas grasped her hand and tugged her along.
"Gandalf said we will see them again," he told her. "And Gandalf keeps his word. Come then Willow, we have other things to attend to."
The redhead nodded, jogging alongside her Elf. Her eyes went briefly deep into the forest as they left it, thinking over what Gandalf had said. She certainly hoped his friend kept her hobbits safe.
Or there would be hell to pay.
*****