Chapter 13

"I'm hungry Strider" Pippin moaned.

"Me too" Merry added.

Aragorn smiled, he too felt the pangs of hunger. Their small rations were divided in two when the company spilt and the other company had the larger share for there were four of them to three.

 "Not long now Pippin and you will be seating in the Golden hall of Edoras eating as much as you wish" he patted the hobbit on the shoulder.

"But first we must endure travelling through the most boring terrain I have seen. Miles and miles of grassy hills and rocks!" Pippin sighed, massaging his stomach. 

 "How are we going to get to Edoras, Aragorn?" Merry asked watching the Ranger breathe in the cool wind.

"We follow the river for four days, then head towards Fangorn. Then we follow the Entwash for three more days that flows right past Edoras."

"As simple as that"

"Not quite, my friend. We will have to cross the rivers and streams many times and the enemy may not be far away. The directions may be simple enough but we may encounter many obstacles"

"Oh, I see. Do you think we will come across the enemy Strider?"

"I hope not Pip. I hope not"

 They marched hard, only resting at nightfall and resuming their march at first light after a very small breakfast which no one felt any better afterwards.  By their fourth day they had left the company of the Anduin and headed towards Fangorn forest in search of the River Entwash.

"I remember Treebeard telling us of how the Ents lost their wives, I wonder if they ever found them" Pippin said his eyes wondering into the woods. "Do you think we can go and see Treebeard?" he added.

"No Pip, we don't have time" Aragorn said firmly pulling his gaze away from the dense old wood.

"We must drink from the Entwash, Strider it's beautiful. We drank from it and it not only soothed our thirst but our hunger too" Merry hopped slightly as he walked.

"And it made us taller and our hair thicker!" Pippin injected.

"Of course I remember Legolas arguing you two had changed when we meet you at Isengard" Aragorn laughed remembering his friend as he was.

Pippin's smile suddenly faded from his face and seriously he asked something that had been bothering him since they left Rivendell: "What is the matter with Legolas, Strider? Lord Elrond was very concerned when we were in Rivendell and Legolas has been acting strangely compared to how we remember him. Does it have anything to do with the attack he was in when he left Mirkwood? Or Cassione and the Ring?"

 Aragorn stopped walking and studied Pippin's face, twice now had the hobbit asked him this question but he was unsure if he should tell them. He sighed, closing his eyes briefly.

'The more that they understand the better it would be for him' he thought. 'But are they ready for the truth? Is Legolas ready for the world to know?'

"Strider, what is it? Tell us!" Pippin hissed stretching himself up to his full height.

Aragorn opened his eyes. "I'm not the right person to say this but, yes your right Pippin. It is because of Cassione and of Legolas' flight from Mirkwood." He looked up at the dipping sun and sat in the grass, the hobbits joining him.

"Let me start from the beginning; when Frodo stood in the mouth of Mount Doom" Aragorn said. "He realised suddenly that he could not part with the Ring, it had grown on him, he had learnt to love it and to treasure it. He wanted it for his own and he slipped it on his finger. All would have been lost for Sam was all spent but Gollum had followed them he still loved and hated the Ring as he always has done but now he was enraged. He pounced upon Frodo and stripped of his finger and of the Ring. We all thought Gollum had fallen into the fires of mountain as the Tower fell and the enemy retreated. But we were deceived. Gollum had not fallen to his death but had lived and later escaped, the falling of the tower was a distraction, a stunt to make us all believe it was over.

 "Cassione tracked Gollum down and killed him for it, she had felt the Ring's presence and took her change to claim what she believed would be a prize above all prizes. Immediately the Ring took hold of her and she began to follow its demands, the Ring is rebuilding Sauron once more, but the Ringwraiths did not hunt her as desperately as they did Frodo for she was aiding Sauron. I do not know if she travelled into Mordor or not but the minions of Sauron with her aid designed a weapon never seen before to attack the elves.

"This weapon would not kill them as such but would do far more damage then anyone could foresee. The weapon could stripe any elf of their immortally. She used her knowledge of the elven realms against her kin and organised attacks against the elves to rid them. That was why Lothlórien had been completely gutted, not one place had been left untouched, that was why the orcs knew exactly where Legolas would try and run to. Jacob found out and she killed him, she had no mercy left in her and everything elven about her had been lost.

"If there are any survivors in Mirkwood they would be the same as you and I, they would be mortal, such as Legolas."

"Mortal…" Merry whispered shocked. "She betrayed her kin for power"

"It would not have been the first time" Aragorn sighed pulling his knees towards his chest.

Merry looked at him: "Those things that attacked us, those Shadowy things, what were they?"

"I do not know what they are, some call them Nightmares. They feed off your worst thoughts and memories. Thirty years ago, when I was a child they attacked, Cassione, Legolas and me in Mirkwood. They changed us. Remember when we went into the mine of Moria did you see how close Legolas would keep to Gandalf's staff? It was because of them that made him warily of darkness where he could not feel the breeze or see the stars. They came because of her, they did not affect her. I knew form that day that Cassione could not be trusted; that there was something about her that I was uncomfortable about but I could not place. She had betrayed us and had played with evil shadows then, and still did up to her death."

"Who chose her to accompany us?" Merry asked.

"She volunteered. I spoke to Gandalf and Elrond and explained my hesitance to take her with us but they both dismissed me and ordered she must accompany us." 

"I can't believe she would do such a thing" Pippin muttered.

"The Ring had driven her, Pippin. Remember when we returned to the Shire everything had changed because everyone felt threatened by Sharkey and co.? It's the same sort of thing, the Ring can drive you to do anything, remember how Frodo was sometimes?" Merry said.

Pippin nodded remembering clearly all the events.

"Greed is one the most powerful motives, Pippin. Even the most unlikely of people can be corrupted by it," Aragorn said, unloading his pack.

"All the same it was evil of her" Pippin nodded watching Aragorn unload his pack before emptying his own.

They unpacked and set camp in silence their minds occupied.

"Will the elves protect Sam, Strider?" Merry asked flattening his blanket.

"If there are any elves left. Yes, they will give Sam and Legolas as much aid and protection as they can. But do not worry too much about them at the moment, Merry. Just rest now, we have a long way to go still."

The night drew in a heavy mist from the forest. The cold swirling clouds woke Merry from his light sleep. Opening his eyes see saw Aragorn's tall figure standing, alert and poised. What had caught his attention? Merry thought. But soon felt it. The ground beneath him began to quake. Beside him Pippin sat up suddenly, his eyes fearful.

"What is that?" he asked seeing Aragorn standing.

For and answer the quaking ground began to play out sounds, beating rhythmically moving nearer.

"Do you think they are the Rohirrim?" Merry asked watching Aragorn's posture.

Not answering him directly The King drew his sword.

Merry and Pippin leapt up, the sound of neighing horses startling them, and they too drew their short swords.

The hooves thundered loudly in their ears there must be at least fifty of them Aragorn guessed. The ground beneath the riders was not treating with respect as the Rohirrim show. These were others rides. Foes perhaps, goodness what Cassione has stirred. The thick wall of mists blinded them, the horses thundering towards them, perhaps they will pass us by, or ride into us…

 A horse suddenly burst through the mists next to Aragorn who fell backwards slightly shocked by its entrance. More followed passing fiercely fast, failing to notice them. Merry shivered he had been expecting to see the banner of Rohan carried aloft but there was none.

The last rider passed them and Pippin sighed with relief.

"That was close" he said lowering his sword.

"It is not over" Aragorn spun suddenly raising his sword the beating of hooves not leaving their ears. His eyes flashed his ears locating the horses. They were returning, turning, manovering… Aragorn's blood suddenly ran cold. They were flanking them. It was a trap, and there was no where to run.

Pippin jumped back stifling a cry. A horse had just suddenly appeared in front of him and another beside it and another, and another. Merry shrank back beside him watching fearful as the horses surrounded them, his back knocked against something and he turned trying not to shout. It was only Aragorn, his sword still held tightly in his hand, though he did not wield it or hold it high as a threat. Was he afraid? The horses moved in closer, their sides touching the one beside it making sure there were no gaps for them to escape through. Just before Merry thought they would be crushed, they stopped. Together the riders drew their swords and pointed him downwards, each tip dimly shinning.

These were differently not men of Rohan. Their clothes dirty and torn, their hair untidy, long and dark, their face were not joyful and proud as the Rohirrim are these were cold, hard and cruel.

 One rider spoke his voice reflecting his looks: "Strangers, speak now or we kill you" he barked Common tongue sounding uncomfortable as if it wasn't his native language.

"We are no strangers to this land" Aragorn declared shifting his grip on his sword. Instantly sword tips prickled his back and chest, warning him of whom is in charge of the situation.

"Silent" one rider said prodding Aragorn again.

"Those not children" one nodded to Merry and Pippin, who looked sideways at one another.

"Dæmons!"

"Devils!"

"Murderers!

"Omens!"

Voices broke out amongst the men, the horses feeling their fear and nerves neighed and tossed their heads some rearing upwards.

Merry watched this fearfully, behind him Aragorn tensed. Something was about to happen…

"Nightmares!"

"Kill them!"

Obediently the riders leapt forward banishing their swords, the horse's hooves crashing around Merry and Pippin as the dived away.

"Run!" Merry heard Aragorn's shout seeing him block a blow aimed for his head. "Use the mist to cover you!"

They did not need telling twice. They ran, hearts pounding, the sound of battle ringing in their ears. They wanted to help Aragorn, but wanted to live also. He was a trained warrior he'll be alright. They had seen him taken on armies of orcs in Moria… but these weren't stupid orcs these were men on horseback.

"Wait!" Merry cried grapping Pippin by the sleeve. "We have to go back"

"Back? No Merry, we'll be killed!" Pippin said, his eyes wide with fear.

"Aragorn will be without are help!" Merry shouted. "We have to help him!"

"But – but what can we do? We'll only hobbits Merry" Pippin sobbed.

"Didn't you learn anything when we travelled to destroy the Ring? Hadn't you learnt anything under Denathor? Did not hear what Lord Elrond said? 'Even one so small can make a difference to the face of Middle-Earth' Don't you remember?" Merry cried fiercely tugging at Pippin's sleeve to stop him escaping.

"Of course I remember!" Pippin screamed breaking Merry's hold. "How could I forget all the things we saw. You know Denothor's death still haunts me to this very day, imaging what might have happened if Gandalf hadn't been able to save Faramir or you when you were hurt!" Merry started as Pippin exploded. "But – but we are no warriors Merry. We can not fight horsemen, they'll crush us!" he finished sadly.

"We have to try! Please Pippin, please!"

Pippin sniffed loudly, dapping his eyes with his sleeve.

"The mist!" he cried suddenly looking around himself. "We can use it to help us."

Merry frowned.

"They think we are some soft of devil, right? Why don't we use that to scare them?" said Pippin his face becoming brighter. "Though it may not work, at least we can try and help Strider"

"Come on them lets go!"

 But they needn't run far, riders were heading towards them…

Merry picked up a stone and threw it as a rider passed him.

The rider cried and slipped form his horse, who continued to ran as if unaware his rider had fallen.

Merry and Pippin darted in the mists muttering and cursing at the fallen rider, any more stones found were too thrown:

"Haha, not very good rider, are we?"

"Even dwarves ride better then that!"

"Do you really think you could beat us?"

The fallen rider sat on the ground, his head twisting to the sound of their voices, not being able to see them.

"Fight your fears"

"Beat off shadows"

"Dæmons"

"Devils"

"And live?"

"You'll wrong" Merry hissed creeping up behind him and prodding him in the back with his short sword.

The response was instant. The rider leapt up, screaming and ran blindly away, screaming and shouting.

Pippin chuckled somewhere nearby.

"It worked, but it won't work on all of them" Merry said, overcoming his fits of giggles. "Come on, we need to find Strider"

Aragorn wasn't having such a good time. They kept coming at him, no matter where he run to. Horses ran rider less in swirling mists, the men were shouting to one another, it disorientated him.

Turning sharply he swooned his wounded head pounding. Blinking darkness that began to creep into his mind Aragorn picked himself up and raised his sword which has began to feel tremendously heavy.

 The battle was not going well, he was sure he would lose, in fact he was still surprised to see himself still alive. Something spooked them, and they parted, lost in the mists they called to one another.

"Dæmons! Dæmons, run!" one shouted.

Aragorn's numbing mind spun:  where were Merry and Pippin?

Another horse galloped towards him, the rider shouting. Quickly he saw Aragorn and readied his bow. Aragorn's eyes never left that bow as he dashed in under its firing range, crashing into the riders' body knocking him from the horse, his bow falling from his hand.

 The rider rose before Aragorn and killed him down again; his head wound temporally blinding him and his sword slipping from his grip.

Click.

Aragorn's battered body whirled into action, as fast as an elf his hand slipped to knife at his waist and without hesitation he threw it towards his enemy without a second glance before the fallen rider could take aim with his fallen bow. A soft thud indicated it had found its mark. Groping Aragorn's blooded hand felt the warm touch of his sword hilt and using it as a walking stick he hurled himself to his feet

He stiffened suddenly, the mistakable touch of steel against his arm. Stealing a glace at his foe Aragorn nearly shouted with joy. It was Merry holding the Kings thrown knife.

"Merry!" Aragorn sighed, "Where is Pippin?"

"Here" Pippin stepped forward into view.

"We couldn't leave you" Merry said handing Aragorn his small blade. "I know we aren't much help but, we couldn't leave you to fight alone."

"So I see" Aragorn nodded at Merry's bloody tunic.

"It's not mine" the hobbit followed his gaze.

"No matter whose it is," Aragorn smiled "Thank you for returning"

Rushing horses broke their convocation they passed them rider less, but they snatched away their concentration as they all failed to notice the men that began to appear through the mists next to them.

 But Pippins frightened cry bought them several vital seconds to spilt up, each running a different way and preparing themselves.

Pippin ran blindly away, the men had startled him, and he ran. This cry seemed to waken Merry and Aragorn but he did not know where they had gone. Someone was following him; he could hear their ragged breath and their heavy feet chased him.

 Running as hard as if he could whilst freeing his short sword Pippin looked behind at saw three men pursuing him closely, each one muddy and foul looking. Oh he wished he hadn't run away form Strider, he wished the others where here. Gandalf – Gandalf would be able to clear this mist and banish the Wild Men away into smoke and fire, like his fireworks.

Something streaked past his ear, and again on his other side. Pippin ran faster, arrows chasing him, he remembered Merry telling him once that Wild Men had poisoned arrows…

 His little feet ran in a blur but that was not fast enough to out stride arrows, his shouldered burnt painfully as an arrow stung him, tripping over his cloak Pippin tumbled, his free hand holding his wound.

Men began to crowd around him, and despite the pain and fear Pippin gathered himself and ran through the legs of the men and into the mist, the men pursuing him again.

Merry stole a glance behind him as he ran, his short sword held tightly in his grip as his arms pumped hard, his knees bending as he ran over uneven ground.

  Something shouted to his side, stealing another glance to saw more men rushing towards him, they seemed to be chasing something too. Squinted he could just see through the tall grass – it was Pippin. The Wild Men spread themselves around the hobbits chasing them, like a sheep dog would herd up sheep. Merry gasped – that was exactly what they were doing. They were going to trap him and Pippin together and out numbered, unprotected and with nowhere to run they'd be killed.

 He changed his direction sharply running as fast as his tired legs could go, bearing south. A man stood in his path and Merry watched him closely, and dodged sending the man one way and quickly Merry changed direction again, faster then the men could and he sneaked past, just out of fingers length.

 Arrows skimmed the grass around him as the men seemed not to bother chasing him.

He was free.

"Merry!" Pippin's pained cry stopped him dead. He spun and froze staring hard at the Men as they held Pippin above the ground so he could clearly see, several swords, knives and bows pointed at his small body.

 No words were exchanged between men and hobbit but Merry understood and slowly began to walk back towards them, tears stinging his eyes as he could see blood soaking Pippin's left shoulder.

 Beneath his feet the ground began to shake, ignoring the grass that whipped his face as a strong breeze blew Merry continued to walk, his face fixed, his staring hard at the Men still threatening Pippin.

"Drop your sword" one said.

But something happened before Merry could obey.

A familiar cry spilt the cold air like a sharp axe. Then Wild Men exchanged fearful looks turning blindly, the cry echoing around the outskirts of the forest.

Merry stopped, the sound of the cry and unmistakable sound of hooves rung in his ears.

It could only mean one thing….

Rushing out the mists like ghosts Men on horses charged, their spears and swords raised, a green banner flying at the front of the company bearing a white horse.

"Rohirrim!" they shouted riding fast and proudly.

The Wild Men fled, dropping Pippin to the ground and the Rohirrim followed.

Their proud horses overtaking them quickly.

Justice had been dealt. 

Merry ran to Pippin's side and hugged him, tears of joy and pain in his eyes.

"My shoulder" Pippin sobbed removing his hand for the wound, the arrow still biting into his flesh.

"I know, we need to find Strider" Merry hushed him not wanting to look at the wound dreading it would be poisoned. "Come on up you get"

"Look out!" Pippin screamed suddenly, the Rohirrim upon them riding fast – would they see them in the mist?

 Throwing themselves onto the ground and pulling themselves in tightly the hobbits braced themselves as the Rohirrim charged.

"Halt!"

The horses turned away too fast to stop dead, but one.

The rider leapt down and knelt over the hobbits.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Merry looked up lifting himself up on his elbows, the riders stopping around them.

"Hobbit, are you alright?" the dismounted rider asked again, this time sweeping off his helmet.

Merry's jaw dropped,

"Lord Faramir!"