Golden snowflakes

                           Chapter four: Searching

T: Ta da, the brand new chapter four, which is like the old chapter four but manipulated a little to give a better read all round. Endymion I can fully understand you wish not to read to the end of ROTK I also find it sad yet I never have the strength to just stop reading…its so blooming addictive!

Not mine, never mine, sad. Umm  I recall angst in this chapter so I'll put and ANGST warning on. Onwards…

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Since the group had left the Old forest over two weeks ago a fine, yet, perceivable divide had come upon them.  Merry and Pippin rode now at the head of the group, there voices blended together in discussion of the last time that they had passed this terrain. Frodo rode just behind them, his eyes taking in the lay of the land and a faint smile perceivable upon his lips. Whenever the conversation between his Cousins turned sour and they began to recall darker things, he would spur Strider forwards and begin to sing one of the many Hobbit walking songs that he knew. The joy at hearing such cheerful tunes flowing again from their Cousin soon cheered Merry and Pippin and their voices would join Frodo's in a soft harmony that had been long lost.

This change for the better in Frodo's temperament was mirrored by a change for the worst in Sam's.  For each night now the gardener was haunted by the dream of Cirith Ungol and the sharp hauntingly true full words of the creature he found there. Yet the dream did not end now with the fading of the creature, for instead of being returned to the half recalled reality of that time and place, Sam was pushed further into the new reality that Gollum had forged for him. For, as Gollum faded now Frodo's form did not take his place, instead Sam was left alone in the tower with Sting in his hands and the sure weight of the Ring about his neck. And each night now he searched vainly for his Master, finding nothing in the dank corrupt place but bodies and death.

The restless nights had begun to take their toll upon the Hobbit a week ago, first his mood shifting from its normal gentleness into a sharp skittish edge that had him snapping at the simplest of things. Not long after the turn in his nature his appearance had begun to suffer also, his eyes developing heavy bags beneath them and his skin becoming pinched and pail.

Merry had been the first to notice the changes in the stout Hobbit and he had determined that it was best for him to observe his friend so that he might learn the source of the sudden change. He did not have long to wait, for, but a day after he had noticed the changes, he was woken in the very middle of the night by Pippin, wide eyed and shaking like a leaf.

"What is wrong, Pip?" He enquired.

" 'm scare, Merry." The Took replied, burring his head hard into his Cousin's chest.

Alert now Merry pushed himself up onto his elbows, careful not to disturb Pippin from where he obviously found security. His eyes went instantly to Frodo, for, only the agitation of their Cousin would bring Pippin crawling to him as if he were still a three year old. Frodo seemed to be sleeping soundly, however, his arms splayed before him and his breathing etched in the rhythm of deep sleep.

"What has got you so worked up Pip?" He enquired softly. "Frodo seems fine to me." Pip raised his head then and replied,

"It is not Frodo, Merry. It is Sam." One shaking finger pointing in the direction of where the gardener was camped for the night.

His eyes turned now in that direction, Merry could see that Sam was tossing in his sleep, his voice (quiet enough so that Merry had to strain to hear it.) spilling out an incoherent jumble of words and sentences.

"I knew something was wrong." He said, more to himself than Pippin. The Took seemed intrigued by the words though and calmer now he enquired,

"Do you think we can help him?"

"I do not think we can, Pip, not unless we get him to talk to us about whatever is bothering him."

"Then we ask him."

"It is not so simple as that. Sam's a prideful Hobbit, Pip, you know that as well as I. If we ask him he will simply lie and tell us everything was well."

"Then we tell Frodo, Sam will not be able to refuse him the truth."

"True though that is, we can not get Frodo involved. He does not know that anything is ill and I wish to keep it that way for as long as I can."

"Then what do we do?" Pip enquired. Merry shrugged his shoulders and then began to think. It was not an easy task, for Sam's voice had risen in volume and though the words were still not clear the fear behind them was.

A solution came to him suddenly though and releasing Pippin's hold upon him, he crawled out towards Sam's side. Once there he could see clearly the beads of perspiration upon Sam's brow and could hear one word clearly among the jumble.

"Master."

That one word made everything frighteningly clear to Merry, Sam was reliving the nightmare of a time and a place that he himself had no wish to hear of again. Yet still he reached out and took one of Sam's nut-brown hands into his own, a wan smile creasing at his lips as the action stilled the gardener instantly.

"Samwise." He said after a moment, his voice pitched low and the rhythm of his words slow now, as one talking to a person heavily hypnotised. "Samwise, speak to me. Whither do you walk in shadow of dreams?" For a moment he feared that there would be no reply, that the trick he had learned many years ago from his father, would turn out to be nothing more than just an illusion. Then he was rewarded by the distant rumble of Sam's voice, which sounded oddly distant in the sudden hush of the night.

"I walk the corridors of Cirith Ungol."

"Why do you walk such paths? Now that your quest lies far behind you?"

"My quest is not behind me, not yet. For I have left my Master here within this place." Those words were enough of a shock to start both Merry and Pippin, who had come to his Cousin's side as soon as Sam had calmed.

"Why does he think such a thing, Merry? Especially now when Frodo seems to be coming into himself again?" Pip enquired.

"I do not know, Pippin. I think, perhaps, that we should ask him."

"You do it, Merry. It seems wrong to be talking to him when he is like this…he seems so vulnerable somehow." And that, Merry suddenly realised, was why Pippin had been so afraid. Sam had been the one their minds had looked to when their strength had begun to fail them, the one they had thought of when Orcs had surrounded them and there had been little hope of escape.  Yet now, when everything seemed to be fine at last, Sam was frightened and that meant that logically there was something to be very much afraid of.

Merry found that his mouth was suddenly dry and it took a moment for his voice to form the question that Pippin had posed him.

"Why do you search still for your Master, Samwise? When he walks beside you now in the light of reality." Sam twitched and for a moment, just a moment, the shadows on his face made him seem to Merry all too much like a figure that both Bilbo and Frodo had described to him. When the shadows shifted, restoring Sam's face back to his own again (yet burned in Merry's mind was that brief moment when it had been something else.) and the stout Hobbit began to talk again Merry knew that he was hearing Gollum, or as much of Gollum as Sam's rich voice could imitate.

"Masstersss gone, my preciousss, losst long ago to It. Hearsss nothing but It now. Doesn't even hear Sam anymore does he preciousss? No. Massster hears the Sea, the nasssty tricksssy Sea" And with that Sam was still again.

Merry was frozen now, his eyes fixed firmly upon Sam's brow and his ears still full of the Sam/ Gollum's words.

"The Sea." He said, almost to himself.

"Frodo has always yearned to see the Sea, Merry. Mother always used to say that his craving for the Sea would be the death of him. That he would vanish like old Isengar." Pippin said.

"Yes, the Sea has always called to him and now he has a reason to go."

"Arwen's gift?"

"Arwen's gift."

"Then let us prey that Sam gets to him very soon, Merry. Or else…" Pippin cloaked then and was unable to finish his sentence. Merry looked hard at his Cousin then nodding once, decisively, to himself, he said.

"Or else we shall lose Frodo forever."

*

Frodo was the only one of the four Hobbits that woke the next day feeling entirely rested. Merry and Pippin both showed signs of the poor night they had had and on this day no songs were started by Frodo or his Cousins as they journeyed.

Though Merry did not believe Frodo ignorant to Sam's condition he had thought that he had blinded himself deliberately, for similar reasons as to why Pippin had had no wish to see Sam weak and scared. And so it came as a small surprise to him when, at breakfast, Frodo had taken him to one side and enquired,

"Have you noticed anything off about Sam of late, Merry? I am sure that my imagination is just running away with me, but…" Frodo paused mid sentence and waited patiently for an answer.

Merry contemplated, for a moment, telling his Cousin the truth ` yes, Frodo, something is wrong with Sam. He's driven himself half mad worrying about you and your fascination with the Sea. The worst thing is both Pip and I think he may have a point. `  But he knew, somehow, that the truth, the real unsullied truth, would have to be told to Frodo by Sam and not himself. And so, swallowing down the bile that had risen suddenly into his stomach, Merry flashed Frodo a false smile and replied,

"He is probably just getting used to sleeping on the road again, Frodo, a few poor nights is enough to make anyone look a little off."

"Yes, I am sure that you are right, Merry. Thank you." And with that He was gone again.

"Elbereth." Merry prayed under his breath, "Do whatever you can to make sure that I never have to lie to him like that again."  Before he followed on Frodo's heals.

*

Merry had been right in his belief that Frodo had blinkered himself deliberately from the change in Sam, and though his Cousin was very aware that Merry had been lying to him, he had no wish to acknowledge that fact. A lie was easier to believe than the truth after all, the truth that somehow Sam knew about his addiction and that he had given up the hope of ever pulling Frodo from the lure of the Sea.

If that was true what hope did Frodo have of resisting it, as he had promised Tom that he would? What hope did Frodo have for refusing to take the one definite cure for the whole the Ring spell had left in his heart. None. None whatsoever.

As if sensing his Master's discomfort Strider shifted slightly beneath him, the horse's unease a distraction from the trail of logic that his mind was creating. Frodo stretched his right hand to calm the beast and was made suddenly aware of the gap in his hand where once a finger had stood.

Now that his mind was again aware of the wound, it began to create fine, gossamer thin threads of connection, between it and the previous path of his thought. `If this wound could not pull you from the Ring spell, ` the inner working of his mind stated, `Then what shall it take for you to release the sea from your heart? ` His eyes lifted from his hands then and settled upon Merry and Pippin, still riding at the head of the group, but their words together now sour and dark. `They almost died fighting for you. ` Continued the thought, `almost died because you could not give up the Ring, could not free yourself of its embrace.

`Will it take one of their deaths to wake you from the Sea's Siren song? ` His mind enquired.  He was struck suddenly by the all too real image of Pippin, coated in blood that had spilled from several deep wounds upon his body and his eyes wide open yet coated now in the thin glaze of death.

A harsh cry fell from his lips and he toppled backwards off of Strider, thankfully missing the horse's hooves by mere millimetres. A moment later he was gazing into the deep brown of Sam's eyes and it took a great effort on his part to ignore the shadows beneath those eyes, to retain his lie.

"Mr Frodo?" He enquired.

"I am fine, thank you, Sam. I must have lost my balance for a moment." He said as he gained his feet.

As he re-mounted Strider his eyes caught the deep furrow of worry upon Sam's brow and for a moment Frodo forgot to believe the lie that his friend was well. For, as he looked at Sam in that moment all of his fears and all of his belief coalesced into one clear thought.

`Your addiction shall kill him, as surely as if you plunged a knife into his heart. `

*

As the Gap of Rohan came, finally, within sight of the group, both Merry and Pippin had pleaded for a chance to turn northwards so that might go to Isengard and see the Ents. This suggestion was met with little resistance from either Frodo or Sam, who both agreed that there would be little danger in turning aside for a day. And so as the sun reached its highest point the Hobbits came again to the Treegarth of Orthanc.

 Treebeard was waiting for them as they crossed what had once been the gateway into Isengard and he greeted both Merry and Pippin kindly by saying,

"Hoom, I have missed you my merry folk, especially when we have needed for those more hasty of nature." And Merry smiled at this, all his care and concern washed away from him for a moment.

"Pip and I have missed you also Treebeard. Indeed we thought of you often as we walked the Shire, or more rightly we thought of the Ent Wives.

"But I shall not talk to you of them, for we have not seen them as we hoped we might. Instead I shall ask how things go here, if I may?"

"Hoom, indeed you may, Meriadoc. There is little left to do now and we may now watch things grow and prosper here without having to concern ourselves with improving."

"Do ye think I might be allowed to see what you have done, Mr Treebeard?" Sam enquired, his eyes fixed on the great expanse of plant life that surrounded them.

"Hoom, I would gladly show you everything, Master Samwise."

"What of us Treebeard?" Pippin enquired. Treebeard laughed then, the sound ringing true and clear around them. "Patience is a virtue that would be well for you to learn, Peregrine, for I was just coming to you. I will send an Ent to take you somewhere where you may rest a little and talk without fear of being listened to by any but yourselves."

"I had hoped that we might talk to one another, Treebeard, while we stayed here."

" I am sure that Treebeard will find time to show Sam what he wants to see and to talk to us, Pip." Merry remarked, something in the way that he said the words warning Pippin not to comment. Looking to Merry, Pip saw him mouth the words ` We will talk later`, he nodded so that Merry knew he had understood and then was quiet.

*

"Why did you do that Merry?" Pippin enquired, his voice dropped down in a whisper so that Frodo (Who had fallen asleep in the shade of a tree) did not hear him.

"I am sorry, Pip, but I could not let you convince Treebeard to stay with us today. I think he might just help Sam."

"But why?"

"Because in a way, Pip, the Ents and Sam have a great deal in common. Both love the soil, understand and interpret its rhythm so that they might use it to bring forth life. More importantly though, the Ents will understand the search he is performing every night in his dreams. They will understand a little of why he is doing what he is."

"Yes, but why did it have to be Treebeard?"

"Because we know Treebeard and Sam knows him through our tales. He will trust him and that is the most important thing at this point."

"You are thinking that once he had told Treebeard, it will make it easier for him to talk to Frodo, are you not?"

"Yes. We both know that Sam is the key to getting Frodo back, but I am more than a little afraid that Sam…"

"Has given up hope?"

"Yes. It is a very frightening prospect, pip, one I do not like to contemplate."

"The plan will hold, Merry, once they start talking everything will set itself to rights."

"I know and I am very tempted to say that we should move the plan forwards, that we should get them talking now. But…"

"Minas Tirith is safer, yes?"

"Defiantly. If things turn sour while we are at Minas Tirith there will be people who can help them both. Solutions to any problem that may arise. Here the only thing that will keep them together if things go wrong is us and I very sure that I would not be strong enough to bare such a burden."

"If things turn sour, Merry, even in Minas Tirith, there is the great danger that one of them shall not come out of this alive."

"I know, Pip. Let us prey that nothing goes wrong."

*

 There was something in the Ents voice as he talked, a base note that sung to Sam of not only the grief that the creature was talking of, but also of the ages that he had seen pass. It was almost as if the rhythm of his voice, rather than the words themselves were telling his story.

Eventually the great Ent ceased and turned his eyes onto the Hobbit. It was like gazing back through the years that the Ent had lived while seeing his present also. It gave Sam an almost disjointed feeling for a moment, as if he was both there in the past and here in the present.

"Will you tell me your tell?" The Ent enquired after a moment.

"Of course, though I am afraid that mine shall not be half as sad or beautiful as yours, Sir." And with that Sam began to spin his tale.

He tried to work as much of his heart as he could into each and every image and soon he was not just telling the tale but reliving it also. He would pause every now and again to explain things to the Ent or to allow the Ent to fill in some of the gaps within his narrative.

Only once did he true fully falter in the narrative and that was as he reached the point where Frodo and he had come to Cirith Ungol, the spiders pass. He was locked in the memory of that time, in the memory of darkness and despair. He could see Frodo before him, so very pail and his body devoid of the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

"Master Samwise?" The Ent enquired, his voice stirring Sam back to the present.

"I was lost in remembering for a moment, Sir."

"You do not have to continue, of this part of the tale I have heard already from Master Meriadoc and Peregrine."

"No offence to them, Sir, but they weren't there to see things first hand." And with that Sam was again spinning his tale, each word now filled with grief and despair. He talked shamefully of the temptation he had felt from the Ring and then he talked of how he had refused to give in, how he had known that the time to fall into such traps was gone.

As he talked of Minas Morgul there was an edge of something else in his voice and as he had talked of finding Frodo at last, Treebeard enquired,

"You do not believe that you truly found him do you?"

"No." Sam had replied and he had gone on to describe his dream and the fears settling into his heart.

Once the tale was at last finished Treebeard had chuckled and said, 

"It seems to me, Master Samwise, that not all Hobbits are hasty folk, just as not all Ents are slow. You have shown a patience in this that almost outshines the strength of your will and loyalty.

"It seems to me that you would do well to keep that patience. Do not become hasty just because the world around you has suddenly sped up. You must keep your faith, just as I have kept mine all of these long years."

And it was that advice that remained with him much later in the evening, when the Ent himself had long ago left to fulfil his promise to Merry and Pippin and the moon was rising steadily in the sky.

Hope had always been the one thing that he had retained as he walked within Mordor and each time he had come close to releasing that hope, that strength of faith, something would come along to restore it again. He had believed, but a week before he had begun this journey, that fate was insuring his safe return home to Rose. Now…

Now, free of the Shire and the shear joy of being safe, of the knowledge that Frodo was safe, he had begun to see things very differently. And it was this change he was contemplating now, sat on a small rise and staring into the inky black of night.

As he had crossed the last expanse of the journey to Orodruin he had pictured Rose's face on several different occasions and each time she had been wearing a mantle of white lilies upon her brow, the mantle of a bride. Rose's face (complete with wedding mantle) had been the first in his mind as Bilbo had handed him the gold. Yet now Rose's face (now devoid of its mantle) had taken a home in his heart that had once been solely occupied by the faces of his Sisters.

For had Rose not been as a Sister to him? Kissing his wounds better just as Daisy had? Joining in when he and May had gone to pick the first Strawberries of Summer? And had she not been his best friend also? Listening without comment as he talked of how much he hated Ted Sandyman? Where in all of that had been a Rose who had stolen Spring kissed from him? Blushed when he complimented her? That Rose, a Rose who could be easily identified as a lover, had never completely existed beyond the confines of his water-starved mind.

He could see now that those images of Rose, his imagined love for her, had begun the moment he had walked out of Cirith Ungol. At a point where he had been very much alone, a point where he had needed something to take his mind away from the empty shell that had once been his Master. Of course his mind would fall to Rose, who had fate fallen differently, may have been the lass he would have wed. As it was now he had changed and he had seen that idea in her eyes as he had rallied her brothers and father together so that they might scour the Shire of Sharky.

The day before he had left upon this journey he had ridden down to the Cotton farm again and had asked Rose for a moment. She had fixed him within her eyes again and taking his hand said,

"Sam, things aren't as ye believe they are. Take ye father's advice and think on things. If ye come back from where ye are going and still wish to talk to me I shall listen gladly." And with that she had gone.

Those words and the odd wisdom behind them made Sam smile for the first time in weeks. There was a faith to them, a core belief that he could not do ill, that restored a little hope to his heart.

"We need to talk." He said to himself. "But Treebeard is right, I can't rush things. Not with everything at stake.

"No it's best I wait to talk to him at Minas Tirith, where the call of the Sea shall be at its quietest." And with the decision made he felt his heart lift completely and he knew that he would rest well this night.

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T: Endymion I am aware that you probably wanted a little more interaction between Treebeard and Merry and Pippin but I put it in and it spoiled the whole rhythm of the thing. Ending the chapter here you see takes the reader (a.k.a you) nicely into the next chapter. Where as if you end it on a Merry and Pippin moment you end up with a forced ending. Also there was little I could actually change about this chapter without spoiling the point of it in the series, I've tried a little manipulation of the Sam and Treebeard bit but that's about as far as it goes I'm afraid.

Let us just agree that this will be the bad chapter  in the series (every series needs a bad chapter I assure you!)