Chapter 3

Aragorn was pacing the length of their camp for the nth time and still no alternatives presented themselves to him. He had heard Legolas' tale of what had transpired while man and dwarf slept, and Saruman's actions had him baffled. Why? With what purpose? To blind an elf?! Why not him or Gimli?

The ranger had searched Legolas' eyes for any sort of illness, but nothing could be found amiss with the blue orbs. Something other than a physical problem was preventing the elf from seeing.

The healer side of Arathorn's son was confused by such situation, for never before had he heard of any elf suffering from such an illness. Or any other illness, for that matter.

So, Aragorn found himself forced to agree with Legolas. Saruman was to blame for this, and he and Gimli could only thank the Valar for having been spared.

~''~

Gimli too found himself haunted by answerless questions, prime of which was how could the elf remain so quiet and calm?!

The dwarf had almost raced straight to Isengard all by himself when he had learned what had happened to the gift the Lady had presented him with. Not even all the curses in the Dwarfish tongue were enough to quail Gimli's anger then.

By the end of the elf's tale, Gimli's anger had only increased, and the fact that Legolas, the one of them mostly affected, still remained so calm, only added to that feeling.

Until the elf had started to sing.

Although Gimli could not understand the words being spoken, the melody carried such sadness and longing that it broke the dwarf's heart.

For then he understood the odd behaviour. Legolas had given up!

'Well, you might have, elf, but yer friends haven't!' he thought. In his heart, the silent promise that he would do everything within his power to get the elf back to normal was made. And a dwarf always took his promises very serious!

Gimli sighed.

How he wished that things were not so complicated, how he longed for days when the major concern of his existence was finding a perfect gem, to craft such weapons that his kindred would be proud of. His life had been good then, working by day, under torchlight, and at night, enjoying good ale while listening to his father's tales of past adventures, stories of riches and glory beyond imagination, of thousand perils to overcome and of fiery trials to prove one's bravery. Then, he had often wished to have been there when Smaug, the dragon, was defeated, to have taken part in the great battle of the Five Armies.

Now, he just wished that he had a pitch of ale in his hand and a warm fire at his back.

Adventures he had searched, but never had it crossed his mind that such inglorious task would land upon his shoulders. Nine companions ('seven' Gimli sadly corrected himself), alone, against a power so dark and evil that few were the ones brave enough to call it by its name.

So few against so many… to bear hope with such odds was an act of courage in itself!

~''~

"We must move on," Aragorn said, looking up at the sun, which had by now reached its highest point.

Gimli looked at him, startled from his thoughts.

"We solve nothing by seating here... Pippin and Merry need our help still" the ranger explained, more to convince himself than anyone else.

The decision sat heavily on the Dunedan's heart. Truly, they could do nothing for the halflings or Legolas there, at the edge of Fangorn, but, could they at all?

Aragorn felt overwhelmed by the responsibility, by the feeling that his hands were tied and his fate was no longer his to decide.

If only Gandalf was still alive… Oh! How he wished for his advice now!

Aragorn knew little about spells and ways to counter them. Galadriel, the Lady of Light, could have been of some help, but he could not go back to Lothlorien now, nor could he leave Legolas to go on his own.

Not like this.

It would be too dangerous.

But, then again, the path ahead of them was a dangerous one too… how could he guarantee the safety of his friend either way?

Amongst his choices, Aragorn had none that appeased his heart.

"We leave now. Their tracks lead in to Fangorn forest and we must take advantage of what ever light we have left"

With a new found resolution, he started to gather what few belongings they had taken with them, pleased to see Gimli doing the same.

"I will remain" Legolas spoke softly.

Both man and dwarf stopped, stunned.

"Wha… you will do no such thing!" Aragorn reacted first, the shock still evident in his tone. The idea was so preposterous that it hadn't even crossed his mind.

Gimli could only nod.

Legolas rose to his feet and turned to where he guessed Aragorn to be.

"And what would you have me doing, ranger?" his voice raised slightly, while his left hand sought the support of the nearby tree, "look at me Aragorn… really 'look' at me" the elf pleaded the empty air. "What use is to you a blind archer?" Legolas said, giving free rein to his anger.

Taking a few venturous steps away from the protecting tree, Legolas tripped on a treacherous root and fell to his knees, his head bent forward, golden hair hiding his face.

When he looked up, his eyes were filled with tears.

"Of what use am I now?" Legolas sobbed.

Aragorn was kneeling by his friend's side the next second.

"Ai! Legolas… you break my heart speaking thus," he whispered, taking his sobbing friend and embracing him as if a small child he were. "We can not even begin to fathom the ordeal you are facing mellonin" the ranger said, fighting his own tears, "but I can assure you Legolas… your friends will stand by your side!"

Legolas sighed against the man's shoulder.

"I can not ask that of you! You and Gimli have a task to finish and I can not place myself in a way that will hinder the success of that!"

Gimli, whom had stepped aside to allow a bit of privacy between the two older date friends, couldn't hold his mouth any longer.

"Never before have I heard so much foolishness sprout from one mouth alone!" he exploded, making his way towards the kneeling elf and man. "On yer feet lads… enough of this defeated speech!" Gimli said, his small stature effectively bringing the taller beings to stand, "we will not allow Saruman to defeat us so easily… where is your stubbornness now, elf?"

Legolas knew not how to answer him, so he said nothing.

That didn't stop the dwarf.

"You act as though the wizard's spell as rendered you daft instead of sightless!"

Legolas stiffened at those words.

"It is you who must be daft, dwarf! Can you not see the consequences of the wizard's actions? He has rendered me useless!" the elf cried to the darkness from where Gimli's voice came.

The dwarf fumed. Daft indeed.

"Nay, Master Elf… the wizard hasn't made you useless, yer doing it to yourself! Have you not other senses, far better than our mortal ones? Do you deem them so that you think they can not aid you when your sight fails you?" Gimli said in a deadly quiet voice. "I knew you were a fool, Master Elf… I had not thought you were a coward as well!"

The strike came so fast that the dwarf only realized that the elf had hit him when he felt the ground beneath his breeches.

Aragorn grabbed Legolas, stopping the elf from further expending his wrath upon the fallen dwarf.

The ranger had tried to stop Gimli's angry words, for he knew of Legolas' temper, but the dwarf had silenced him with a look. Gimli seemed to think that Legolas needed to hear this, but Aragorn had his doubts.

On the grass-covered ground, a smile spread across Gimli's beard.

"Seems you can still find your foes in the dark, Master Elf" he said in a provocative voice.

'Why, the little devil…' Aragorn thought as he felt the elf stop his struggles against his hold.

He let him go.

With out the support of Aragorn' s hands Legolas felt isolated. Cold.

"This proves nothing, dwarf" he said bitterly.

Gimli rose from where he sat.

"Aye… maybe, or maybe you just need to learn to let your friends give their support to you, elf", the dwarf said, surprising himself by so lightly labelling himself as elf-friend. "Trust us to not let you fall and we will find a solution for this problem, together… or my name isn't Gimli, son of Gloin!" he said, grabbing the elf's arm in a firm grasp.

The contact felt both alien and comforting to Legolas.

Their intentions were good, but still he felt at a cross of roads. How could he make them understand that a part of him was missing? How to explain that it felt like a blade running through his heart to realize that he had lost his independence? How heavily it weighed upon him to have no option but to depend on others?

For hundreds of years the elf had always been very strong about his decisions. He had to, being the son of the King, often responsible for other warriors in the kingdom. He was, above all, a warrior, and in battle he knew that there could be no doubts clouding one's judgement, no fear of making the wrong choice. But back then, he believed the worst that could happen was an enemy's hand finding its target and rushing his departure to the Halls of Mandos.

He had learned different now.

The very things that made Legolas who he was had been ripped away from him, with little hope of ever being return. His warrior's skills, his archery…

How could he let an arrow fly if he knew not where his target lay?

With a piece of his soul missing, Legolas knew that he would simply fade away. He had hoped to do so far from the sight of his friends, but he now realized that they would not allow him that.

"Can someone bring me my bow?" Legolas asked, breaking the silence.

Aragorn and Gimli exchanged a look of confusion. The ranger picked the weapon from where it laid and pressed it in to his friend's waiting hands.

Legolas felt the familiar weight and sighed. The gift of the Lady.

Beneath his fingers, he could feel the fine detailed embroideries that covered the exquisite bow. In his heart, he was saying his goodbyes.

In a swift movement, honed to perfection over centuries of repetition, the bow was unstrung. Without the pull of the long string, the deadly weapon straightened and effectively was turned in to a walking staff.

"Let us be off then" Legolas said to his companions, whom, he knew, were silently awaiting his decision.

The tension in the air melted away in relief sighs from man and dwarf. Neither had any idea of what to do if Legolas had not changed his mind

Trying to be not too obvious as to hurt the elf's pride, Aragorn and Gimli guided him in the forest, their steps suspiciously heavier on the ground and their mouths more talkative than usual, so that Legolas could follow the noise. And for that small, innocent trickery, Legolas was grateful to them.

Even so, the elf would often stumble in his path, for the forest was very dense and some of the oldest trees unforgiving.

As they moved deeper in to the woods, Legolas' world seemed to become less void. Voices of gentle trees sought to distract him and offer comfort, some warning him of the dangers in his path, others going as far as moving their long roots so that he wouldn't trip on them.

Calming his storming heart, Legolas found that he could now better sense the forest. Ever had the wood-elves been the closest to the trees, cherishing their natural beauty, protecting them as they often protected the elves. But now, Legolas could feel an even deeper connection, a more profound knowledge of the ancient beings around him.

He could feel every breath dancing in the wind, hear every tree trunk that cracked with old age, understand every whisper between leafs. And right now the leafs were warning him…

"The white wizard approaches" he whispered to his companions.

Man and dwarf stopped. Neither shared a single doubt about trusting Legolas' word of advice.

"Where?" Aragorn whispered back, his weapon close at hand.

Legolas listened carefully, but the trees were silent now.

"I can not tell" he admitted in defeat.

Without even realizing it, Aragorn and Gimli moved closer to Legolas. Each could feel the growing tension in the air, all creatures' breath paused in wait.

"Do not let him speak" Aragorn warned, "or he will put a spell on us again"

Silently, as all elves move, Legolas took one of his white knifes from its sheath, joining Aragorn's sword and Gimli's axe. He might not know where his enemy stood now, but to stay there with no weapon in his hands felt like nakedness to the warrior.

At once, all felt the powerful presence in the trees behind them and, as one, they turned around, ready for battle.

Between two of the tallest trees in the forest, on top of an old trunk that had long been defeated by the passage of time, stood the wizard. Holding his staff in his right hand and surrounded by a light so bright that it seemed like the sun had come down to kiss Middle-Earth, the figure spoke of both power and might.

With no doubts in his mind, this time, Gimli wasted no time and threw his axe, intended on freeing the traitor of his head. But the axe never hit its mark, easily pushed aside by a swing of the magic staff.

Beside him, Gimli could hear the faint gasps in his companions' mouths, as they dropped their weapons to the ground, the heated metal burning their hands.

Once again, they stood defenceless against the white wizard.

"I mean you no harm" the powerful voice sounded like thunder in the closed forest.

Aragorn had believed that once. He would not be so easily fooled a second time.

"Show yourself" he demanded.

Taking two steps towards them, the wizard effectively shadowed the sunlight coming from behind him, allowing the three companions to see his face.

Aragorn and Gimli found themselves gazing not at Saruman as they expected, but at their fallen friend.

"Gandalf? This cannot be…" the ranger stuttered, not believing his own eyes.

For Gimli, there could be only one explanation for this return from the death realm. Acknowledging the wizard for the higher being he had proven to be, the dwarf bowed his head in respect.

"Gandalf…"

Beside him, Legolas was drowning in self-recrimination. He had failed to recognize the Istar's unique inner light, the sign the Valar themselves had placed upon those send by them. A light that now shinned so brightly in Mithrandil that no eyes were needed for it to be seen.

He dropped to his knees, in admittance of his mistake and lack of skill.

"Raise, Legolas of the Woodland Realm" the voice of the wizard sounded next to him, startling the elf, for he had heard no movement.

"This is no way for a prince to greet me" Gandalf said, one hand around the elf's arm, lifting him to his feet.

With one touch, the Istar could feel the heaviness in the warrior's heart. And the cause for such sorrow.

"Saruman has placed you under a spell"

It wasn't a question, merely a stated fact.

Gandalf's voice was comprehensive, warm.

"He has taken something from you" the old man continued, facing the elf, the fair face trapped between his hands. Tears had gathered in Legolas eyes, but he refused to shed them.

"I know that in your heart there was hope that I might undo this wrong… but I can not"

Legolas stiffened. Gandalf had squashed his last threads of hope even has they formed.

Gandalf could read every emotion going through the face between his hands. The sorrow and hopelessness were dragging the elf deeper and deeper in to darkness. He had to stop this. He had to make him understand.

"Legolas… listen to me" Gandalf called in a powerful voice " what Saruman stole from you, is yours to take back… you have just to will it to happen" he cryptically said, his fierce blue eyes piercing the dull, unfocused version in front of him." Until that happens, you must not give up… Legolas! You must not fade, for your part in this quest is not over yet!"

Legolas took a step back, away from the wizard's hands. Had he been peering at the very core of his soul?

With his words, the wizard had hit, with the sharpness of an arrow, the centre of his troubles.

The archer couldn't even make any sense of the riddles in which the wizard spoke. True, riddles were a game much loved by all elven kind, but Legolas would rather have a straight answer at this point.

Still, Gandalf's words seemed to hold a strength within that went beyond their meaning, and Legolas' heart responded to that, drawing whatever light the wizard was offering.

~''~

They exchanged tales.     

Gandalf told them of how he had defeated the Balrog and how he happened to be among the living once again. He also put their hearts at rest about the fates of the Hobbits Merry and Pippin.

The three hunters were amazed to hear about such creatures as the Ents, folks they knew from legendary tales, coming to life and helping their friends.

On their part, Aragorn told the wizard about all that had happened after his fall in Mória, the lost of Boromir and ending with the tale of how Saruman had come to their camp at night.

The results of that, the wizard was already well aware of.

"The spell Saruman used is a very old one" he explained them, "one of the forbidden spells"

"And why neither I or Gimli were affected by it?" Aragorn asked.

Gandalf thought about the objects Aragorn had mention. He smiled.

"Saruman, the White, made a terrible mistake. This particular spell requires a very special item from the person on whom the spell is to be cast on. But in your case, Aragorn, the arm protection wasn't really yours, was it?"

The ranger nodded.

"It was Boromir's"

"Rightly so… and you Gimli, you were saved by Galadriel's magic."

The dwarf opened his eyes in wonder.

"The Lady's hair"

"Exactly… although the pouch Saruman stole was yours and therefore, could be used for the spell, the presence of the Lady of Light hairs inside it prevent the spell from affecting you"

Legolas sighed.

"So, whatever the wizard took from me, worked"

"Unfortunately, yes" Gandalf sadly confirmed, "however, Saruman's power is diminishing… soon, all that will be left of it will be shadows and smoke. Remember… shadows and smoke"

When Gandalf next told them of the troubles brewing in the lands of Rohan and, realizing that their part in the Fellowship and Frodo's task was over for now, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas agreed to follow the new White Wizard to Edoras.

~''~