Author's Note: This story is getting complicated! I think I have too many
story lines going now (rest assured, the rest of Fellowship will return
shortly)! Well, as long as you guys keep reading it, I'll keep writing it!
Hope it doesn't start getting too long (or boring). As always your reviews
and comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you for your support!
Chapter 9 On the Hunt
Pippin quickly looked around the small, icy shelf. If he and Frodo had to remain here, exposed to the freezing wind and snow, they would quickly die. He feared it might already be too late for Frodo. He turned around and could have shouted with joy. Behind him, was a small cleft splitting the side of the mountain. He plowed through the snow towards it and was relieved to see that it went far enough back to provide protection from the elements. He returned to Frodo and clumsily untied the blanket rope. He looked upwards again and could just make out Merry peering at them through the driving snow. Pippin waved to him, then using all his strength, lifted Frodo by the shoulders and slowly dragged him back into the cave, as far from the fierce, biting wind as possible. He waded back and shouted up to his cousin. "I've found a cave!"
Merry nodded that he understood. He hurried back to Bill and pulled out some food, water and blankets from the pony's packs. He then pulled the rope back up, and making a bundle with one of the blankets, he lowered the supplies down to Pippin. "Pippin!" he yelled over the shrieking wind, "I've got to go find Sam! He has the Ring and I've got to stop him! I'll come back as soon as I can!"
Pippin bit his lip as he caught what was Merry was saying. He understood the urgency of Merry finding Sam, but he didn't much care for being left alone in this little cave high in the Misty Mountains. He also feared for Frodo's life. But, there was nothing to be done. He waved to Merry that he understood and felt tears form as he watched his cousin disappear from the edge of the cliff. Pippin slowly made his way back to the cave where Frodo lay, close to death. Maybe Gandalf and the others would make it back to them, he thought to himself as he opened the bundle Merry had sent down. He was so desperately cold. Every movement had become a chore. He could barely feel his hands or his feet any longer. He opened the blankets, then huddling close to the unconscious Frodo, covered them both hoping their combined body heat would keep them alive until they could be rescued.
Merry felt terrible about abandoning Pippin and Frodo and cursed his weakness. But, there was nothing more he could do. As a signal, he tied a red bandanna to the rope still fastened around the rock. He also hoped that if Gandalf and the others were still alive, they might make it back to this side and rescue Pippin and Frodo before it was too late. In the meantime, he had to try and find Sam. He wasn't sure where Sam was headed, but he felt certain he must be under some kind of spell. That was the only feasible explanation he could come up with. If it was a spell that made Sam attack Frodo, that could mean either Saruman in Orthanc or Sauron in Mordor. If either one of them got their hands on the Ring, it would mean disaster for all of Middle Earth. All he held dear, his family, his friends, and even his beloved Shire, would be destroyed. Right now, Merry was the only one who could possibly prevent this from happening.
He began the trek back down the mountain, hoping that it would be easier going down than it had been going up. At least he felt certain that this was the way Sam had gone. There were no other paths. Once below the snow line, he hoped he would be able to find Sam's trail. Although certainly not in Aragorn's league, Merry had been a fair hand at tracking forest creatures in the extensive woods around Buckland and he prayed that his meager skills would now be sufficient to follow Sam.
He carefully checked periodically for Sam's tracks along the narrow trail just to reassure himself the other hobbit hadn't somehow eluded him already. "Although he'd have to fly to do that!" thought Merry to himself. He couldn't help but worry about Pippin and Frodo, left behind on the mountainside. He continued to pray that Gandalf and the others would find them
A few miles down the path and he was out of the worst of the snow, Merry felt some of his energy returning. The air was warmer down here, and although still cold, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. He had gone some distance when he was forced to come to a stop. He had finally reached the base of the trail and now, he was uncertain as to which direction to take. He squatted down to examine the ground more closely, although the bare rock gave few clues. He stood again, thinking hard. If Sam was attempting to take the Ring to someone, and given what he had heard in Rivendell, Merry suspected that someone to most likely be Saruman, the likeliest direction for Sam to head would be south, towards Isengard. Nodding to himself, he turned southward and continued his journey, determined to find Sam and retrieve the Ring.
He had traveled many miles from the base of the path when he spotted a distinctive foot print in the thin, sandy soil. Kneeling down, he smiled with relief. He was on the right track! Sam was somewhere ahead. This discovery brought with it a rush of renewed energy, and Merry hurried ahead, looking for additional signs. He didn't get much farther that day as the sun was setting quickly below the horizon and dark clouds were gathering. Merry found a small, protected alcove between some rocks and seated himself as comfortably as possible. It wasn't long before the cold, pelting, rains started. He wrapped himself in his thick cloak and eating from the meager supply of rations he had with him, prepared to wait through the long, cold night.
He woke from a fitful sleep as the gray light of early morning illuminated mountain tops. The freezing rain had ended near dawn. Merry was stiff and chilled to the bone, but knew he would warm up once he started moving again. As soon as it was light enough, he carefully searched the ground for Sam's tracks, but was dismayed to find that the heavy rains had washed any signs away. Glumly, he decided to simply continue in the southerly same direction the trail had been leading in the hopes he would find something later on.
It was near midday when he found himself examining the crumbled edge of a high ridge. It looked to Merry as if Sam might of slipped here. There were some small thorn bushes here and several looked crushed and broken. Merry searched around further ahead, but finding no more signs, decided to descend to the valley below. He cautiously sat down on the loose gravel and slid to the bottom, careful to choose a spot well away from where he thought Sam might have fallen. Searching the valley floor, he was rewarded with a scrap of what looked like Sam's shirt caught on a thorn bush. "If only I can catch up with him soon," sighed Merry wearily, fingering the bit of fabric. He wasn't sure what he would do when he did find Sam, but he was becoming more and more worried about Pippin, Frodo, and the others.
It was as these thoughts were swirling about in his head that he heard a low, harsh laugh. Merry's head turned abruptly at the sound and the cold hand of fear gripped his heart. A huge creature stood in among the shadows of the rocks to Merry's right. Merry's mouth fell open in horror. He had never seen such a hideous monster before and quickly realized it must be one of the Uruk-hai Gandalf had told them about. Merry's breath was coming in short, panicked gasps and he felt frozen to the spot, unable to turn his eyes away.
"Well, well, well," sneered the huge Uruk, casually swaggering over towards Merry, "Looks like Lord Saruman was right! You did come find us!" Merry stared at him in confusion. It took him a moment before he realized the Uruk must think he was Sam. With a yelp, Merry turned and tried to flee, but the Uruk quickly snatched him by his shirt, bringing the struggling hobbit up to eye level. Merry thought he would be ill as the creature's foul smelling breath washed over him. The Uruk frowned as he examined Merry more closely.
"Somethin's not right, here," it growled, staring suspiciously into Merry's wide eyes, "I've seen creatures under the power of one of the Master's Commands and they don't look like you. I'm thinkin' that maybe yer not the halfling we're lookin' for! I think Gorek might wanna take a look at you."
Chapter 9 On the Hunt
Pippin quickly looked around the small, icy shelf. If he and Frodo had to remain here, exposed to the freezing wind and snow, they would quickly die. He feared it might already be too late for Frodo. He turned around and could have shouted with joy. Behind him, was a small cleft splitting the side of the mountain. He plowed through the snow towards it and was relieved to see that it went far enough back to provide protection from the elements. He returned to Frodo and clumsily untied the blanket rope. He looked upwards again and could just make out Merry peering at them through the driving snow. Pippin waved to him, then using all his strength, lifted Frodo by the shoulders and slowly dragged him back into the cave, as far from the fierce, biting wind as possible. He waded back and shouted up to his cousin. "I've found a cave!"
Merry nodded that he understood. He hurried back to Bill and pulled out some food, water and blankets from the pony's packs. He then pulled the rope back up, and making a bundle with one of the blankets, he lowered the supplies down to Pippin. "Pippin!" he yelled over the shrieking wind, "I've got to go find Sam! He has the Ring and I've got to stop him! I'll come back as soon as I can!"
Pippin bit his lip as he caught what was Merry was saying. He understood the urgency of Merry finding Sam, but he didn't much care for being left alone in this little cave high in the Misty Mountains. He also feared for Frodo's life. But, there was nothing to be done. He waved to Merry that he understood and felt tears form as he watched his cousin disappear from the edge of the cliff. Pippin slowly made his way back to the cave where Frodo lay, close to death. Maybe Gandalf and the others would make it back to them, he thought to himself as he opened the bundle Merry had sent down. He was so desperately cold. Every movement had become a chore. He could barely feel his hands or his feet any longer. He opened the blankets, then huddling close to the unconscious Frodo, covered them both hoping their combined body heat would keep them alive until they could be rescued.
Merry felt terrible about abandoning Pippin and Frodo and cursed his weakness. But, there was nothing more he could do. As a signal, he tied a red bandanna to the rope still fastened around the rock. He also hoped that if Gandalf and the others were still alive, they might make it back to this side and rescue Pippin and Frodo before it was too late. In the meantime, he had to try and find Sam. He wasn't sure where Sam was headed, but he felt certain he must be under some kind of spell. That was the only feasible explanation he could come up with. If it was a spell that made Sam attack Frodo, that could mean either Saruman in Orthanc or Sauron in Mordor. If either one of them got their hands on the Ring, it would mean disaster for all of Middle Earth. All he held dear, his family, his friends, and even his beloved Shire, would be destroyed. Right now, Merry was the only one who could possibly prevent this from happening.
He began the trek back down the mountain, hoping that it would be easier going down than it had been going up. At least he felt certain that this was the way Sam had gone. There were no other paths. Once below the snow line, he hoped he would be able to find Sam's trail. Although certainly not in Aragorn's league, Merry had been a fair hand at tracking forest creatures in the extensive woods around Buckland and he prayed that his meager skills would now be sufficient to follow Sam.
He carefully checked periodically for Sam's tracks along the narrow trail just to reassure himself the other hobbit hadn't somehow eluded him already. "Although he'd have to fly to do that!" thought Merry to himself. He couldn't help but worry about Pippin and Frodo, left behind on the mountainside. He continued to pray that Gandalf and the others would find them
A few miles down the path and he was out of the worst of the snow, Merry felt some of his energy returning. The air was warmer down here, and although still cold, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. He had gone some distance when he was forced to come to a stop. He had finally reached the base of the trail and now, he was uncertain as to which direction to take. He squatted down to examine the ground more closely, although the bare rock gave few clues. He stood again, thinking hard. If Sam was attempting to take the Ring to someone, and given what he had heard in Rivendell, Merry suspected that someone to most likely be Saruman, the likeliest direction for Sam to head would be south, towards Isengard. Nodding to himself, he turned southward and continued his journey, determined to find Sam and retrieve the Ring.
He had traveled many miles from the base of the path when he spotted a distinctive foot print in the thin, sandy soil. Kneeling down, he smiled with relief. He was on the right track! Sam was somewhere ahead. This discovery brought with it a rush of renewed energy, and Merry hurried ahead, looking for additional signs. He didn't get much farther that day as the sun was setting quickly below the horizon and dark clouds were gathering. Merry found a small, protected alcove between some rocks and seated himself as comfortably as possible. It wasn't long before the cold, pelting, rains started. He wrapped himself in his thick cloak and eating from the meager supply of rations he had with him, prepared to wait through the long, cold night.
He woke from a fitful sleep as the gray light of early morning illuminated mountain tops. The freezing rain had ended near dawn. Merry was stiff and chilled to the bone, but knew he would warm up once he started moving again. As soon as it was light enough, he carefully searched the ground for Sam's tracks, but was dismayed to find that the heavy rains had washed any signs away. Glumly, he decided to simply continue in the southerly same direction the trail had been leading in the hopes he would find something later on.
It was near midday when he found himself examining the crumbled edge of a high ridge. It looked to Merry as if Sam might of slipped here. There were some small thorn bushes here and several looked crushed and broken. Merry searched around further ahead, but finding no more signs, decided to descend to the valley below. He cautiously sat down on the loose gravel and slid to the bottom, careful to choose a spot well away from where he thought Sam might have fallen. Searching the valley floor, he was rewarded with a scrap of what looked like Sam's shirt caught on a thorn bush. "If only I can catch up with him soon," sighed Merry wearily, fingering the bit of fabric. He wasn't sure what he would do when he did find Sam, but he was becoming more and more worried about Pippin, Frodo, and the others.
It was as these thoughts were swirling about in his head that he heard a low, harsh laugh. Merry's head turned abruptly at the sound and the cold hand of fear gripped his heart. A huge creature stood in among the shadows of the rocks to Merry's right. Merry's mouth fell open in horror. He had never seen such a hideous monster before and quickly realized it must be one of the Uruk-hai Gandalf had told them about. Merry's breath was coming in short, panicked gasps and he felt frozen to the spot, unable to turn his eyes away.
"Well, well, well," sneered the huge Uruk, casually swaggering over towards Merry, "Looks like Lord Saruman was right! You did come find us!" Merry stared at him in confusion. It took him a moment before he realized the Uruk must think he was Sam. With a yelp, Merry turned and tried to flee, but the Uruk quickly snatched him by his shirt, bringing the struggling hobbit up to eye level. Merry thought he would be ill as the creature's foul smelling breath washed over him. The Uruk frowned as he examined Merry more closely.
"Somethin's not right, here," it growled, staring suspiciously into Merry's wide eyes, "I've seen creatures under the power of one of the Master's Commands and they don't look like you. I'm thinkin' that maybe yer not the halfling we're lookin' for! I think Gorek might wanna take a look at you."