~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter Seven: Decisions come at the Wrong Time

Pippin paid the man and took the bag of food. The sun was just beginning to set, and it was better to go under the cover of darkness.

He looked behind him one last time at the white tower of Icthelion. It shined in the light of dusk, giving off the illusion of a sword. He smiled and mounted his horse that was fittingly named Strider.

"Ride on." The horse took off at a canter into the woods. The branches on the trees whisked past his horse and slapped his face. When he reached a brook he let it drink, then rode on.

"Frodo has to be in Mordor. Where else would he be?" Pippin mumbled, spurring Strider on.

It was nearly three hours later when he stopped to make camp. He slept for only an hour, then rose and mounted again. Mordor was in his sights, like a mound of ash rising up from the earth. When he finally reached the foot of the hills he got off strider and instructed him to go home. Just before the horse left he attached a note to the saddle. Then he turned and headed up.

Up and away from happiness. Only to this.

He could smell the dead marshes even now. He wondered if he should dare it or just stay to the side hills.

But the memory of Kilikai was farthest from his mind.

*~*~*~*

Aragorn walked into the healing chambers with Kilikai and straight to Ifina.

"We have a matter of importance to talk to you about."

"What is it, my lord?" she asked, setting down her washbasin.

Kilikai felt her eye's grow glossy but blinked back the tears. "Pippin has gone missing. We do not know where."

"How does this concern me helping you?"

Aragorn put up a hand to silence the remark building on Kilikai's lips. "We need you to do a scrying. Find out where he is."

Ifina set down the washbasin and picked up her silver tureen. "Anything for you, my lord."

She poured out the water into the bowl and waited. Soon images showed up of Pippin slogging through the Dead Marshes, a pack weighing heavily on his back. Every step he took seemed to pain him, and it looked like it took much effort to walk.

"He'll die out there."

Aragorn leaned back up and thanked Ifina, then headed outside to one of his guards. "Send for Meriadoc, and gather your best men together."

The guard bowed, then left. Kilikai glared at Ifina, who returned it right back.

"If he dies, I swear I will cut your throat myself and throw you in those marshes with the rest of your kind."

"Not before Elessar has your head."

"I'd make sure he never found me." She turned and left the room. Ifina was about to call out another insult, but a moan sounded from behind her. Uvia was sitting up and grasping her head.

"Where-?"

"Shh, you've been sick a very long time. Your voice may hurt. Just stay lying down." Ifina helped her down, then sat on the bed.

"Where is he?"

"If you mean your companion, he is in another healing hut resting."

She sighed in relief.

"I do not know what to call you miss. Could I have your name?"

"I am Uvia of Mirkwood."

"An elf?"

"Yes."