THE OLD FOREST BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER
Summary: How did Aragorn catch Gollum? Why was Mirkwood attacked? How did Gollum escape from the Elves? What have the Nazgûl got to do with it? Chaos in Mirkwood as Aragorn and Legolas team up with trouble following in their wake! But will the two survive it?
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.
A/N: So sorry about the delay! I make no excuses! But I make up for it with size! (I hope!)
Review responses:
Colagreenleaf - It's always nice to fulfil someone's wish list…. As for our ever so friendly wraiths, they'll be playing a major part in this fic. And this chapter.
Cosmic Castaway - Glad you like my version of Thranduil!
Deana - Glad you like my fic! Here's the update, as requested….
Grumpy - Aragorn will have to take off for Bree eventually. See later chapters. As for it not being Aragorn or Legolas's fault that things keep happening them.. Well, let's just say it's a lot easier to blame the duo's luck than it is to blame the one billion and one things that just 'happen' to them.
Leggylover03 - Glad you approve!
Lulu bell - Thanks so much for the compliments! And as for the guarding Gollum thing, Thranduil is allowed to hope after all… And back to LotR canon, there was only a span of months, not years, between Gollum's capture and the council. And most of the information about the capture is given in the appendices and the Council of Elrond chapter in the Fellowship of the Ring.
Mirrowa - Thanks for the invite! I'll probably check it out…
Orli_luver - Thanks! No, I've never really given thought to a HP/LotR. And as for the Aragorn/Legolas friendship thing, it's never explicitly stated in Tolkien's writing but the fans of his writing seem to have mostly come to the conclusion that it was so.
Sennay - J Thanks! It's nice to know people appreciate painstaking research.
SilverKnight7 - here's the next instalment….
Star-Stallion - Yes, the parts the snippets are from are coming up!
CHAPTER FIVE: MAKING FRIENDS WITH SHADOWS
The Hobbits had crossed the Brandywine river and now walked through the they walked through the wooded lands at the edge of the Shire. All of them were on edge from their near escape at the Buckleberry Ferry and all sensed that it wouldn't be their last encounter with the wraiths, who had come too close to them for anyone's liking.
Needless to say, they were not happy campers and being forced to listen to Pippin's rather high-pitched and none too pleasing on the ear renditions of various travelling songs.
It was in the middle of one of these songs that something happened. Frodo grew uneasy and put an end to Pippin's singing.
"And now to bed! And now to bed!" sang Pippin in a high voice, secure in the knowledge that his verses were delighting his companions.
"Hush!" Frodo said sharply, grabbing Pippin's arm in a white-knuckled grip, "I think I hear hoofs again!"
The others froze and fearfully they stood listening, hearing nothing but the sounds of scurrying wildlife and the whistle of a breeze moving through the leaves. There was the sound of hoofs plodding along the road behind and the Hobbits looked around with wide-eyed terrified glances, seeking someplace to hide, before running into the deep shadows under the oak trees of the wood.
"Don't let us go too far!" cried Frodo as they ran through the undergrowth, Hobbit feet making little noise, "I don't want to be seen, but I want to see if it is another Black Rider."
Obligingly the other three slowed and stopped, Sam and Pippin crouching behind a large tree-bole, and Merry hiding in the shelter of a large dead tree trunk, whilst Frodo crept back slowly and carefully towards the lane.
The Hobbit looked to the sky, noting that while the stars littered it plentifully there was no moon in sight. And that mean that visibility was limited. And that whoever was there would be harder to see in the all encompassing darkness that had dropped across the land.
The sound of hoofs stopped abruptly. Frodo edged closer to the lane. Darkness fell across the lane, light being blocked out as down the road came a jet black horse, led by a smaller black shadow. As Frodo stifled a gasp of recognition and fright, the wraith tracked their trail to the place where they had left the path and its head whipped from side to side, seeking out its prey. The horse pawed its feet impatiently, sniffing their scent for its rider. The wraith noticed its distraction and with its black cloak swishing around it, it began to creep towards where Frodo lay behind a bush.
Frodo's hand travelled to the ring in his pocket but a stone thrown from the ground by the horse's pawing hit bounced off his hand and the shock of it drove him back to his senses. For a second, it looked like the wraith would find the ringbearer's hiding place and he heard the hiss of steel as a sword was unsheathed.
But soon came the reprieve Frodo had been unknowingly looking for, from the around the bend of the road came a sound like mingled song and laughter. Flawlessly beautiful voices reached their ears and with a low growl, the wraith looked to the approaching figures and dropping its hand from its sword hilt, it retreated with a low curse. Frodo didn't breathe until it had climbed onto its shadow-coloured horse and disappeared into the expanse of darkness across the road.
"Elves!" exclaimed Sam joyfully. "It's Elves Mister Frodo! Elves!" bouncing forward to try and meet his idols. Sam was so overcome that it took his friends to hold him back so that he wouldn't charge head first down the road to see the group of Firstborn.
The Elves song was beautiful, chasing away the shadow for a time and the hobbits relaxed when they saw the Ringwraith move further away, and keep going.
"Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O Light to us that wander here
Amid the world of woven trees!
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
Clear are thy eyes and bright they breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
In a far land beyond the Sea!
O stars that in the Sunless Year
With shining hand by her were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom bloom!"
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas!"
Round the turn they came, glowing with their own sort of shimmer and causing the hobbits to pull back lest Sam do something that might be seen as a threat by the sharp eyes of the Elves .
At first it seemed they would pass by without noticing the four awestruck Hobbits watching them, but the last Elf called out to them as he passed. "Hail Frodo!" he exclaimed, "You are abroad late. Or are you perhaps lost?" he asked laughingly. Slipping into the Elvish tongue, he called to the others and the company halted and gathered around the small figures.
After exchanging rudimentary greetings, Frodo asked, "Who are you and who is your lord?"
"I am Gildor," answered the Elf who had first spoke to them. "Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod. We are Exiles, and most of our kindred have long ago departed and we too are now only tarrying here a while, ere we return over the Great Sea. But some of our kinsfolk dwell still in peace in Rivendell. Come now, Frodo, tell us what you are doing? For we see that there is some shadow of fear upon you."
Pippin just couldn't keep his mouth shut and couldn't seem to feel Merry's glare boring two holes into his back, "Tell us about the Black Riders!" he demanded.
The Elves were visibly taken aback and dark looks flitted across their faces, "Black Riders?!" one maiden asked in a low voice, "Why do you ask about the Black Riders?" Her tone made it all too clear that this wasn't any sort of normal topic for conversation.
"Because two Black Riders have overtaken us today, or one has done so twice." he answered, causing the Elves to look at each other and stepping away, they began to talk to each other rapidly and quietly in Sindarin, thus ensuring that the Hobbits would not understand their speech.
"The Black Riders!" the Elf called Meleth hissed, "What would the Ringwraiths want with Halflings of the Shire?"
Gildor shook his head worriedly, "I can see some of their errand but not why the enemy hunts them. And I fear they have already come close to being either captured or killed more times than they know. You saw the wraith that we drove off unwittingly." he said anxiously, "And more hunts them than the Black Riders…" his voice trailed off into a sigh.
"What do you wish to do?" asked Arataur, "How can we warn them of a danger of which we know nothing?"
"We have made grievous mistakes through inaction in the past," Meleth cautioned, "I would take no chances of having our throats slit because we decided that we thought they brought us no harm."
"Yet I do not wish to get tangled in things beyond our understanding at the moment," Gildor replied, "And the Hobbits are as innocent as children at this point. They are not prepared for what the Enemy might throw at them."
"We cannot protect the younger races anymore," Arataur argued, "We have enough trouble guarding our own. Must we bring more trouble down on out heads than what is already assigned to us who tarry here?"
"I feel that Elrond would have our hides if we did not offer them our aid at this juncture." Gildor said after a long pause, "Something that no Elf who appreciated their life would wish to bring upon themselves." Lord Elrond's temper, when roused, was quite formidable. "They make for Rivendell, for some reason, or so I believe. Let Lord Elrond deal with them there while we guard them this once on their journey."
"What about the Ringwraiths?" Meleth demanded pragmatically, earning agreeing nods from several other Elves, "Halflings are one thing. The Enemy's servants are another. Even now they listen to us, even if they cannot understand our tongue. My heart bids ill in this matter. They travel in the presence of something of the Enemy's, something evil. That is what I know. I am loath to bring it into our camp."
"The Halflings are trustworthy. If they carry such a burden, it is most likely unknowingly. I will have us help them and that is my final word on the matter."
"As you wish my Lord," acquiesced Meleth, swiftly followed by the others of the company.
After a lengthy conversation Gildor turned back to the hobbits, "We will not speak of this here," he said, "We think you had best come with us now. It is not our custom, but for this time we will take you on our road, and you shall lodge with us tonight, if you will."
"O Fair Folk! This is good fortune beyond my hope!" said Pippin.
"I thank you indeed, Gildor Inglorion," said Frodo bowing formally. "Elen sula lúmenn' omentielvo, a star shines upon the hour of our meeting." He said in the manner of traditional Elvish greeting taught to him by Bilbo before the old hobbit had left the Shire.
"Bilbo has thought you well," Gildor said, sounding quite delighted at hearing his native tongue, "Hail, Elf-friend! Come now with your friends and join our company! You had best walk in the middle so that you may not stray. You may be weary before we halt."
The Elves were right, as they seemed to walk for what seemed like hours and ere long Pippin soon began to feel sleepy, and staggered once or twice; but each time a tall Elf at his side put out an arm and saved him from a fall.
At last they came to a clearing amidst a copse of trees, and the Elves ushered the sleepy hobbits into sleeping bowers laden with soft grass and helped them pull their blankets atop of them before they lit a cheerful blaze in the grove's centre and gathered around it, either sitting upon the grass or the sawn rings of old trunks.
Frodo though was not claimed by sleep and rising from his bower, was seated beside Gildor at the fire and they spoke long about the happenings in the world outside of the Shire. 'Twas mostly bad tidings; the massing of dark things, and the troubles of Men and Elves.
~^~
"You do not ask me or tell me much that concerns yourself Frodo," said Gildor at last, after they had worn out all of the inane topics of conversation they could come up with, "But I already know a little, and I can read more in your face and in the thought behind your questions. You are leaving the Shire, and yet you doubt you will find what you seek, or accomplish what you intend, or that you will ever return. Is that not so?"
"It is," said Frodo with some surprise, "But I thought my going was a secret known only to Gandalf and my faithful Sam."
"The secret will not reach the Enemy from us," said Gildor reassuringly. The word of an Elf was not something to be taken lightly and Frodo knew that they despised Sauron so much that they would rather die than help him.
"The Enemy?" said Frodo, "Then you know why I'm leaving the Shire?" He couldn't believe that it was known to so many. Gandalf had warned him to keep it an absolute secret! He couldn't fail so early in his task!
"I do not know for what reason the Enemy is pursuing you," answered Gildor, "But I perceive that he is - strange indeed though that seems to me. And I warn you that peril is now both before you and behind you, and upon either side."
"You mean the Riders? I feared that they were the servants of the Enemy. What are the Black Riders?" he asked curiously and not a bit warily. They had come far too close to him too many times for comfort and he would know what they were.
"Has Gandalf told you nothing?" the Elf Lord asked slowly, bright grey eyes fixed on Frodo.
"Nothing about such creatures." Frodo answered with a heavy heart, "He left me in a hurry, departing on a most urgent errand and told me little of what now dogs my steps save that they were servants of the enemy and that I must avoid them at all costs."
Gildor may have been made of stone for all the emotion he showed at Frodo's comments. "Then I think it is not for me to say more - lest terror keep you from your journey. For it seems to me that you have set out only just in time, if indeed you are in time. You must now make haste, and neither stay nor turn back, for the Shire is no longer any protection to you."
"I cannot imagine what information can be more terrifying than your hints and warnings," exclaimed Frodo in dismay. "I knew that danger lay ahead, of course, but I did not expect to meet it in our own Shire."
"You are in more danger than you realise, young Hobbit. Do you not know how many of the Black Riders follow you?" the Elf asked carefully.
"What?" Frodo exclaimed again, "More of the Black Riders?! How can it be so?! I've not even left the boundaries of the Shire yet!"
Gildor looked at him with visible sympathy, "There are more things on the face of Arda than even an immortal can know of."
"What can I do now?" Frodo said in despair, "My plan was to leave the Shire secretly, and make my way to Rivendell, but now my footsteps are dogged by more than I can see, before I ever get near Bree."
"I think you should still follow that plan," said Gildor, "I do not think the Road will prove too hard for your courage. But if you desire clearer counsel, you should ask Gandalf. I do not know the reason for your flight, and therefore I do not know by what means your pursuers will assail you. These things Gandalf must know. I suppose that you will see him before you leave for Rivendell?"
"We are to meet in Bree, at the inn of the Prancing Pony," Frodo replied. "Then I hope I can leave the worrying to him."
Gildor looked at him oddly once more, "And if Gandalf is not there when you arrive?" he questioned, "You cannot afford to wait. It would mean more than your death."
"I cannot imagine anything at the moment but to get to Bree. Once there, I can plan what to do, but for now, too much already weighs on my mind."
"In this meeting there may be more than chance; but the purpose is not clear to me, and I fear to say too much." Gildor said abruptly, "Be careful on your path, young one, there is more danger upon it than even the eyes of the Elves can see."
"I am deeply grateful," said Frodo, "But I wish you would tell me plainly what the Black Riders are. I ought to know what is the danger that pursues me."
"Is it not enough to know that they are servants of the Enemy?" answered Gildor with a hint of anger, "Flee them! Speak no words to them! They are deadly. Ask no more of me! But my heart forebodes that, ere all is ended, you, Frodo son of Drogo, will know more of these fell things than Gildor Inglorion. May Elbereth protect you!"
"But where shall if find courage?" asked Frodo, "That is what I chiefly need."
"Courage is found in unlikely places," said Gildor, casting him a look of reassurance and clasping his forearm as to offer support and comfort to one worn down by burdens borne, "Be of good hope! Sleep now! In the morning we shall have gone; but we will send our messages through the lands. The Wandering Companies shall know of your journey, and those that have the power for good shall be on the watch."
And so it was that Frodo allowed himself to be led back to his friends, and he fell into a sound sleep, content in the knowledge that for once on his travels, his safety and that of his friends was assured for the night.
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
"By Eru!" Laston exclaimed, "Would you stop your whinging Ismagil!" Two other guards, the unfortunate Ismagil and Isfin, who'd already been on dungeon duty, had been ordered to join the rather distinguished quartet as added protection.
They had not been pleased by the 'honour'.
But still, Laston thought irritably, it doesn't excuse two warriors of Mirkwood sulking like infants over something so trivial. And in front of their Prince and one of their captains as well! Wasn't it enough that Caladar had had to dispatch an intruding spider already? Elbereth knew that Estel and Legolas were still arguing over which was uglier; an orc or a spider.
"God, I hate this!" Legolas muttered after a while, during which even the Elves found themselves prone to increasing bouts of utter boredom.
"Yes, I fully agree. That creepy crawly was seriously messed up. With those little feelers or whatever they were sticking out of it's face, slithering around like a worm and slimy…" Aragorn babbled in supposed agreement with his friend.
"No! I meant I hate guard duty." Legolas explained somewhat amusedly and then cast his friend a sly look, "Do we have some sort of… problem with spiders, my friend? Beyond the obvious obstacle of they wanting to eat us of course?"
Caladar groaned softly. He hadn't been forced to put up with this sort of scintillating conversation since his son had been but a boy. That had been five thousand years ago.
"Hasn't it gotten enough exercise for now?" Isfin demanded, "It's been up there for hours! And the King said to be back before sunset!"
Laston glanced at Caladar and then nodded, "Yes, that's acceptable. Legolas, go fetch him down."
The prince looked at his father's friend with wide eyes, "Me! Why me?!" he groused, while Aragorn tried to hide his laughter.
Caladar shot his charge an exasperated look and even spared a stern glare for Aragorn, while mentally promising himself to give the ranger a lecture on proper behaviour some time in the near future, "Because you were the only one able to get him out of his cell Legolas," he clarified, "Obviously you would have the best chance to get him down."
Aragorn couldn't resist sharing his opinion. "And since you're the Crown Prince, and the rest of us are simple warriors and rangers, it is only fitting that you dazzle us with your skill at babysitting little monsters, to set an example for us so to speak."
"Estel," Legolas said levelly, "I became an expert in minding little monsters the day I met you."
"A low blow Legolas," Aragorn said in mock chastisement, shaking his head slightly, "A very low blow indeed."
Caladar really wished Elrond hadn't found it necessary to adopt yet another son, who was as equally troublesome, if not more so, than those blasted twin menaces he'd already fathered. "Just go Legolas. The sooner you get him down, the sooner we can shove him back in his cell and be done with him."
Legolas still looked none too pleased but acquiesced and darted up through the tree branches, 'accidentally' knocking a loose branch onto Aragorn's head as he did so.
The ranger glared in the direction he thought his friend to be in (as he couldn't see him) and called up to him, "Very funny Greenleaf! Do you wish to be skewered on the sharp end of my sword?"
A merry voice replied, "Well, if you do it half so well as you did with the bar of soap, I don't have much to be worried about!"
Aragorn blushed as the other Elves looked at him questioningly, sensing a rather entertaining story to be had. "Not a word," he growled.
Isfin tried to look innocent, "This wouldn't have something to do with Athon's near nervous breakdown would it my Lord Estel?"
Aragorn just stared at her for a moment, "Who's near nervous what?" he asked.
Isfin flashed him a rather predatory smile, "Athon was in charge of minding you 'til the Prince came," she said sweetly, "He was rather… mortified at your ever so lovely verses." Nearby Ismagil, Laston and Caladar's ears perked up and Aragorn could literally see their unspoken demand for the rest of this unfolding tale as they leaned closer to listen. Warning bells went off inside his head.
Isfin didn't give him a chance to answer, "I hadn't realised the Lady Arwen of Imladris was partial to poetry. Let alone poetry of such… skill."
Aragorn struggled to keep a calm expression as her words sunk in, Legolas obviously hadn't been joking when he said that he'd talked in his sleep. "I'm sure she would be welcome to evaluate any such verse that Athon could compose," he said warily.
"I was referring to your renditions of Lady Arwen's beauty."
"I don't have the slightest idea what you are talking about," Aragorn bluffed.
She smiled. "I could recite a few lines if it would help refresh your memory?" Aragorn shot Laston and Caladar a pleading glance but they only smirked and urged the trainee healer on. Aragorn turned his woebegone eyes on her, begging mercy.
She had none.
"Arwen! Tinúviel! Shining ever-bright! How I love thee, I cannot tell… O Undómiel! Fairer than the night sky!…." Isfin recited tauntingly.
"ENOUGH!" Aragorn roared, putting a stop to his embarrassment, though by now the whole group of Elves was laughing at him. He made a mental note to get Isfin back for this; all healers were just too cocky for their own good. He was sure that Elladan and Elrohir could help him get his revenge in a way she wouldn't forget for a few millennia. The thought caused an involuntary smile to cross his face but soon enough, everyone's amusement was forgotten as the sound of scuffling came from the tree they guarded and high-pitched curses fouled the air.
"Gets away from us!" Gollum shrieked, clinging to the boughs of the tree with his feet as well as his hands, and for all Legolas could do, he couldn't get the creature down without a forty foot freefall to the ground below. And as that didn't fall into the category of 'keep the prisoner alive', he was at a loss what to do. "Nasty stinking bright-eyes!" Gollum spat at him, "Gets away from us! We not going back to that ugly ranger!"
From below, Aragorn let out an indignant shout at being called ugly by one of the most annoying creatures he's ever had the misfortune to meet.
After several minutes of struggling, Legolas descended to the forest floor. "He won't come down," he stated unnecessarily, "He clings to the branches with all his might and I cannot budge him safely from where he is huddled. I'll not climb up again."
Laston huffed in annoyance, "He will come down as soon as he is hungry. We can wait another while," he said.
Aragorn looked at the tall tree, in which lay their charge, "I'd still like to point out that I have a really bad feeling about this!" he said.
It wouldn't be 'til later that he found out how right he was to be uneasy.
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Gandalf followed Saruman as he turned down a lane in the tree-filled garden, whilst informing the White Wizard of all he knew.
"You are sure of this?" Saruman asked, when Gandalf had finished, his mind already whirling with the possibilities. So Gandalf the Grey, the wizard he hated above all others, had once more succeeded where he had failed and found the one thing Saruman had been craving for the past few decades.
"Beyond any doubt, I'm afraid," he answered, "It did not go out to sea like we had hoped."
"So the Ring of Power has been found." Saruman said slowly, "And it reveals itself during the rising of Mordor's power. Ill tidings you bring, old friend."
"All these long years, it was in the Shire, under my very nose." Gandalf said with remorse, feeling that he had committed a great folly in letting Bilbo be all those years ago and not pushing him to reveal what he knew of his magical ring.
"And yet you did not have the wits to see it." Saruman said condescendingly, "Your love of the Halflings' leaf has clearly slowed your mind." he continued, enjoying tormenting the other Istar.
Gandalf was undaunted, eager to tell his plans to one who could help, "But we still have time. Time enough to counter Sauron if we act quickly." he said hurriedly, "We can still avert disaster…"
"Time? What time do you think we have?" Saruman sneered, enjoying the way Gandalf froze at his words and turned to him with questioning eyes. A look he saw far less on his face than he would like whilst in his presence. "Come with me, Gandalf the Grey, and let me show you what 'time' we have left…"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Tightly gripping the reigns of the warhorse underneath him, Khamûl faced the two other ringwraiths who haunted the keep of Dol Guldur along side him. "There will be no failure," he hissed coldly, "I trust you know how our Lord would react to it."
There was silent acceptance from his two underlings. "Each of you will take a force to the west and east areas of the Elves' realm. I will take one through the centre. After the sun has set, we assemble our forces and at midnight we attack. Mayhap they'll be sleeping and it will be an easy slaughter. But I doubt it, those Elves are tricky creatures. Avoid them if you can. Our goal is to recapture the creature Gollum and weaken the Elvenking's defences as much as we can."
One of his fellows spoke up, "But the Elvenking's wards are maintained by his bloodline," he said. "'Tis near impossible to take the citadel without taking care of that first."
Khamûl's skeletal face gave a bloodless chilling parody of a smile. "Then by all means, kill Thranduil and his brat. I have no doubt their killers would be well rewarded by both our Lord and the Witch King. Our Lord would very much like to have full run of this forest, and has charged us with the task of attaining it for him. The blood of Elven royalty would only sweeten our victory. And don't forget to pick up a few playthings before you leave. The orcs are getting bored and a few toys to mutilate would cheer them considerably. Watching their antics is always such fun when they're properly riled."
After several more minutes of talking battle strategies, the three wraiths wheeled their horses around into the front courtyard of the fortress of Dol Guldur, idly surveying the mass of orcs, wargs, and spiders gathered there, ready to do their Lord's bidding.
They were at least two thousand strong, enough to ransack the entire Elven realm three times over. At least with their advantage in numbers, those who felt inclined could play a little before finishing a kill. It was always so much more pleasurable that way.
"Today, my servants," Khamûl hissed, "We sack what little of Mirkwood that is not under our control. Ransack, pillage, destroy and slaughter. Apart from that you have two orders only: take back the creature Gollum, and as to everyone else; kill them all."
The roar of the orcs reverberated off the walls of the keep, and in the King's halls in Mirkwood, Thranduil suddenly felt the strongest feeling of foreboding since the Second Age….
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Saruman led Gandalf into his entrance room, seating himself on an elaborately designed chair, which looked more like a throne than a chair of any kind. From his perch, he looked imperiously down on the other wizard who stood before him. He leaned forward slightly in delicious anticipation of shattering dear little Mithrandir's hopes into a million sharp fragments, maybe they would burrow into his nauseating little heart and fester and save Saruman the job, or was it more of a chore?, of killing him.
"Sauron has regained much of his former strength." he begun matter of factly, "He cannot yet take physical form, but his spirit has lost none of its potency. Concealed within his fortress, the Lord of Mordor sees all. His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth and flesh." He noted with pleasure that Gandalf's head shot up to stare at him in dismay. Yes little wizard, he sneered maliciously, know your plans are ruined before they are even begun…
He lowered his voice and fixes his gaze to Gandalf's, "You know of what I speak, Gandalf. A Great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame." Know your doom before it meets you… I will take untold pleasure in breaking you, my would-be usurper…
Gandalf could only whisper it's name in horror, "The Eye of Sauron."
"He is gathering all evil to him. Very soon he will summon an army great enough to launch an assault upon Middle-earth." He delighted in the way Gandalf seemed to literally shrink as what was undoubtedly fear clawed at his over-tender heart. A weak heart, not befitting an Istar, and yet that damnable Elf Círdan, had still passed him something of importance when we arrived on these shores. To him! My inferior! Still, he would find out all before he killed him. He would make sure of it…
Gandalf's eyes narrowed in wariness and thoughtfulness, "You know all this? How?" he asked impatiently, finally asking Saruman the Wise for the knowledge he was too stupid to gather himself.
Saruman smirked slightly and looked upon his inferior with an altogether too smug air before saying in a tone which bespoke the revealing of a great secret, "I have seen it."
As he swept out of the room, he could feel a set of curious eyes boring into his back before following in his wake.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
"My Lord?" Tuluion, one of his advisors, asked worriedly. "Are you alright Your Majesty?"
Thranduil was seated in a comfortable armchair, deep in thought and sprawled very much like a cat on the soft surface. A frown marred his features and a grim expression bespeaking dark thoughts cemented Tuluion's impression of his King being deeply troubled.
The King's dark blue eyes looked to him wearily, and with a short sigh, and in a rush as though he needed to get it out before his pride got the better of him, he spoke, "Something occupies my mind. That is the source of my trouble. If I knew what such a sense of foreboding meant then I wouldn't be here brooding." he said frankly.
"Is there ought I can do?" Tuluion asked, wondering what could ail his liege so.
"Sit," Thranduil said, gesturing to the chair opposite him, "I would have your opinion on something."
"Of course my Lord," he replied.
Thranduil chuckled somewhat morosely, "You served my father and have known me since I was an elfling. There's no need to stand on ceremony just because you think me in an unreasonable temper."
The tension eased somewhat, "You forget Thranduil, that I remember your temper. Your poor naneth had such trouble keeping you out of trouble! It's not something that one takes lightly."
A fond look mingled with sorrow was clear on Thranduil's normally not so expressive countenance as he reflected on his mother, the late Queen Lendeth, who had perished with grief after the death of his father. It was just another sorrow he held Sauron responsible for. "They were better days my friend," he said wistfully, "But we have another matter to discuss. Something has been growing in my mind the past few days but never so strong as now. I fear it bodes ill for Mirkwood my friend. Very ill."
Tuluion leaned forward in his seat, "You think us to be besieged by some evil?"
"A shadow haunts my sleep," Thranduil said grimly, "The forest itself is quiet, it's waiting for something. The trees try to warn me, but they know not the threat and so cannot tell. I think the time of inaction is over and that the war Gandalf so oft spoke of is upon us whither we will it or no. And I think Mirkwood is where the first strike will come."
"What do you wish me to do?" Tuluion asked, sincerely worried. His Lord shared a connection with the forest that most did not, which was why he was the one on the throne, and for Thranduil to admit to the coming war… Well, things would have to be very bad indeed.
One long-fingered hand rubbed across his forehead, pushing back a stray lock of golden hair, "Battle tactics shall have to be discussed with Erundul," he answered wearily, "I would have you send for him at least. As well as Berion, Rasadan and Brethil. They will need to be readied. But as to what for, I fear only time and experience too dearly bought will tell."
"What of you?" the brunette advisor inquired after a moment, "You look exhausted. If an attack does come, you will need your strength my Lord."
Thranduil just waved a hand in dismissal, "Sleep evades me my friend. And as to the other, I will not fail in my duty to Mirkwood no matter how exhausted I am. The wards have not fallen since they were erected, I would be a fool to let them now."
Tuluion wasn't convinced, "But surely Prince Legolas would be of aid to you in that?" he asked, knowing that he was risking Thranduil's ire. "It would be no trouble to get him here…"
"I would rather he not be involved in this," Thranduil said with all the weight and tone of a royal order, "Legolas would only get himself neck-deep into whatever trouble is brewing. You are not to contact him Tuluion, and that is an order."
Well if the King would rather have the Prince out of the way, it must be bad, Tuluion thought alarmed. But as he exited the King's chambers, he thought he might just find a way around that particular order…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
"Nevraith?" Tuluion called, stopping the maid in her tracks as she went to walk by him in the hall.
"Yes, my Lord?" she replied respectfully, stopping and coming towards him, "Is there ought I can do you for you Lord Tuluion?"
"Yes, I need you to give a message to Lord Erundul for me. Tell him that the King desires his presence in his chambers immediately but tell him I wish to speak with him first. Tell him I will await him in my study. Can you convey that to him?"
"Of course, my Lord," the she-Elf replied and hurried off to do as she was bid.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Erundul felt the first omen of trouble brewing as he caught sight of the grim face of the advisor waiting for him, impatiently pacing the length of the room in his agitation.
He didn't even get a chance to ask what the matter was as the second the door was closed, Tuluion began speaking in a rush, "The King is worried. He says the forest is troubled and I am not inclined to disagree with him when he feels trouble is imminent. He has been too often right to chance it. He is much preoccupied with the wards and with worry for what he thinks is coming."
"Does he have any orders for me?" Erundul asked, familiar with the advisor's sometimes abrupt style, and knowing the Elf too well to think the matter any less serious than this display of fretting obviously conveyed.
"That he will tell you for himself when he sees you. I am anxious over the strain holding the wards against any attack would put on him. I think that the Prince should be brought back to the palace where he can be of aid lest the King should weaken. Also, I think it would ease the King's heart to have him close, instead of him in the middle of the fray as usual."
"You wish that I send a dispatch out to retrieve him?" the Captain of the Guards asked apprehensively, already imagining how the headstrong Prince would react to that. He despised being coddled like a baby as he put it. Not to mention, Estel would undoubtedly be in his company and that was something every sane warrior hoped to avoid.
"I think it would be the best." Tuluion admitted, "I have not seen the King so troubled in since before the Watchful Peace."
"Then why has the King not charged me with this himself?" Erundul asked, sensing he wasn't being told everything.
Tuluion grimaced, "The King has forbidden me to fetch him," he admitted.
The Captain of Mirkwood's Guards raised an elegant eyebrow, "Insubordinate behaviour from the King's advisor," he said teasingly, "What a surprise!"
"The youngling doesn't know when to put his heart over his head at times," Tuluion said irritably, not enjoying the mirth his friend was gaining from his problems.
"There are few who would call the King a 'youngling'," Erundul replied, "Should I just take it that the Prince is to be brought back not only secretly, but I'm to make it look as if it was all his own idea?"
A frustrated glare was his only answer.
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Gandalf followed Saruman into the White Wizard's study, freezing at the sight of the round object on a pedestal in the centre of the room. By Eru! Surely Saruman hadn't been so foolish as to trust in the visions of a palantír! Not when so many had fallen into who knew what's hands! He walked towards the pedestal, circling it and eyeing the palantír covered in a thick cloth with trepidation. "A palantír is a dangerous tool, Saruman." he cautioned.
Saruman ignored his subtle rebuke and carelessly lifted the cover off the powerful stone, "Why? Why should we fear to use it?" he asked lightly. Even now, eh thought, the silly grey wizard would reject the power that might have saved him. A pity… for some.
Gandalf grew angry at his lack of caution and swiftly replaced the cover over the palantír. "They are not all accounted for, the lost Seeing-stones. We do not know who else may be watching."
Saruman's smirk grew wider, "So you do not wish to know what I have seen?" he asked innocently.
"Too late for caution now, isn't it?" Gandalf snapped uncharacteristically, "Let what you have already dared gather be of some use."
Seating himself, he waited until he had Gandalf's undivided attention before speaking, "The hour is later than you think. Sauron's forces are already moving. The nine have left Minas Morgul."
Gandalf's face paled and his voice came out in a horrified whisper, "The Nine?" By Eru, he thought, they couldn't be that close behind Frodo! The Hobbit didn't even know of their existence, let alone the danger they posed to him, bearer of the One!
"They crossed the river Isen on Midsummer's Eve, disguised as riders in black." he said dispassionately.
"They've reached the Shire?" Gandalf choked out, fear clogging his throat. Dear Elbereth, the poor brave Hobbits!
Saruman's eyes gleamed with something he didn't recognise, "They will find the Ring, and kill the one who carries it."
Under his breath, Gandalf muttered the name of the one who occupied his thoughts, "Frodo! Frodo! I must go to him!" He spun around, grey robes swirling and headed towards one of the room's four exits. With a glance, Saruman slammed it close before he reached it. He tried each of the other three doors in succession but each slammed irrevocably shut before he reached them, until he was trapped with a wizard whose motives were trusted before, but who by barring him exit, now bore the full weight of Gandalf's suspicious gaze.
"You do not seriously think that a Hobbit could contend with the will of Sauron?" Saruman asked incredulously, the smug tone of a victor for once clear to the grey wizard's ears, "There are none who can. Not even those friends of yours, that half-breed Elrond and the Elf-witch Galadriel can stand against the Dark Lord. Against the power of Mordor, there can be no victory. We must join with him, Gandalf. We must join with Sauron. It would be wise, my friend."
Gandalf closed his eyes in despair as the full truth of betrayal dawned on him. Here was the spy they had puzzled over. The leader of the Istari, the Valar's chosen, fallen to Sauron's thrall. And worse, looking at him now, he could tell that it had been greed and a lust for power that had driven him to betray him, betray the White Council, betray everything they stood for, and try to foil what they had been sent to Middle Earth to do. "Tell me, friend." he asked sadly, "When did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for madness?"
A fierce madness was his only warning as Saruman's white staff was whipped out and made him fly through the air, hitting the wall with a loud thud and a cry he felt in his aged body and keeping him there with the power of his magic.
As he watched through pain-filled eyes, he saw Saruman walking slowly towards him, staff pointing directly at him like a spear and then he gave another cry as he dropped to the floor, bones protesting from the impact.
Gathering his energy, Gandalf hefted his staff, and still on the floor, he used it to throw Saruman on his back. And then it was war, with both wizard's desperately trying to get the upper hand on the other, as they used their staffs to toss each other around the room, both trying to cause deadly harm to the mortal, if un-ageing, bodies the Valar had bestowed upon them.
For a moment, Gandalf thought he might just have the better of the other, as he tossed Saruman through the closed doors. But he was weary now, in heart, body and mind, and he was only Grey while Saruman was White. Saruman, recovering with all the swiftness of the zealous and power-hungry, and managed to wrest Gandalf's staff from him.
Falling to the floor again, his mouth tasting of blood, as Saruman approached with the two staffs in either hand. "Why?" he asked but the White Wizard didn't answer.
"I gave you the chance of aiding me willingly, but you have elected a way of pain!" he shouted, furious at Gandalf for posing such a challenge and with a firm movement of his staff, Gandalf the Grey found himself being propelled dizzyingly fast to the very top of the lofty tower of Orthanc.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Not all Elves had the gift of foresight, but Legolas Greenleaf had it in some measure and what was more, he was a child of the forest, both by birth and spirit and when strange tidings came to his ears, backed up by some deepening shadow at the back of his mind, just beyond conscious thought.
He fell into silence and deep thought, eyes unconsciously tracking the forest around them for danger. His sudden tenseness and grim, brooding looks, did not go unnoticed by his companions.
Placing a hand on the slender shoulder, and watching worriedly when Legolas started in surprise, Aragorn hauled his friend up from the ground and dragged the bewildered Elf some distance away, where what they said wouldn't be so clearly heard. "What ails you Legolas?" he said, in a cross between a question and a demand, as Legolas straightened his clothes after their rough handling.
"'Tis nothing Aragorn," Legolas replied distractedly.
"Nothing?" Aragorn repeated, his right eyebrow threatening to disappear under his hairline, "Something troubles you. I would have you tell me."
"I said it was nothing Aragorn," Legolas insisted, irritation coming through in his manner.
Aragorn smirked somewhat evilly, "Something is causing you to be as jittery as a Southron in a snowstorm. If you don't tell me," he threatened, "I will tell Caladar that you don't feel well and watch as he and Laston drag you off to the healers for an extended say. And I will make sure it is an extended stay."
"That is cruel and unusual punishment Aragorn," Legolas grumbled, "You show as much mercy as an orc."
"There's no need for insults," Aragorn chided, "Now tell me."
"Yes naneth," Legolas replied tauntingly, causing Aragorn to try and swat him around the head. "Fine, I just feel that something is coming. Something bad."
"You expect an attack?" Aragorn asked seriously, slipping into ranger mode.
"I don't know what to expect Aragorn," Legolas replied, silver-blue eyes showcasing his frustration at his own ignorance. "It could be just an unexpected fall into a river as you seem wont to do, but for all I know, Morgoth himself could show up. I just don't know!"
"You really think they'd attack us in broad daylight? Evil is usually more insidious then that." Aragorn said, trying to both reassure his friend and lighten the mood somewhat.
Legolas's gloomy but pragmatic answer shattered all chances of that, "In this forest Aragorn, there's very few things the servants of the Dark Lord wouldn't dare do. And attacking Elves or Men is not one of them."
Aragorn just knew he could trust his friend to make him feel miserable. Elladan and Elrohir must have trained him.
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
An hour before the stroke of midnight, when the forest was clouded in darkness and with no moon to see by, the gates of Dol Guldur opened and out poured the small army, intent on seeing Mirkwood burn before morn…
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Berion, Captain of the Southern patrol, eye's widened as a large jet of flame lit the sky above one of the more recently abandoned settlements half a mile from his company's position. Wheeling around to ready his warriors, even though he feared it was already too late, he sent advance scouts ahead to see what the matter was, while the company gathered to the source of the commotion. No doubt Captain Brethil would be on his way also, being posted on the Eastern borders.
"To arms!" he ordered, "Take to the trees. Keep out of sight until I tell otherwise! Let us find out what evil is wreaked on the forest tonight!"
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
Thranduil was sipping on a cup of herbal tea when the doors to his apartments burst open with a loud bang. "My Lord!" cried Rasadan as he sped into the room with no pretence of formality, "My Lord! We're under attack! The outlying settlements have already fallen!"
Thranduil jumped up from his seat, "How did they advance so far already?" he demanded, "The traps we laid should have at least slowed them down!"
Rasadan was uncharacteristically out of breath, after hightailing it back to the palace, "My Lord, they number two thousand strong. This is no skirmish. They mean to destroy us. The nearby patrols could make no considerable dent in their numbers before their arrows were spent and they were forced to pull back lest they be slaughtered." He paused for a moment before sending a slightly fearful glance at his liege lord, "Your Majesty, they are led by the wraiths of Dol Guldur and few of our warriors can stand against the shadow that follows them for long. Our arrows penetrate them not and we dare not use fire in fear of burning more of the forest than they have already set alight."
Thranduil's open robe swirled around him as he crossed to the fireplace, staring at the cheerful blaze but inwardly checking the forest he governed, and mentally recoiling from the screams of pain and horror that the trees let out to all that could hear them. There was no time to lose. He would not make the same mistake his father had during the Last Alliance, and move too soon and lead his people to unnecessary death. He might not have the power of an Elven Ring behind him like Rivendell and Lothlórien, but he was by no means defenceless. Outwardly he had denied the need, but for years now he had been preparing for such a day. Especially since it became clear that no others would move to help him if he had need of it.
"Prepare for a siege," he said after a long silence while Rasadan fretted in the background, "They will weaken with the dawn. We have only to hold out 'til then. Call back all warriors to the citadel. I will not have those monsters gain any hostages."
"But my Lord!" Rasadan exclaimed, "There is no guarantee that they will not take the citadel!"
Thranduil's blue gaze hardened, "I will not waste lives needlessly. I can keep them out for that long. And in the morning, then they shall feel our wrath. We shall only use arrows against them as far as we can. We shall not march to meet them when they are at their peak. You were right in what you said, there are too few here who can handle such creatures without losing themselves in the process." There was another pause. "Find the Prince and Lord Estel. They should be with Gollum in the dungeons and tell them that they are to keep out of things unless I say so. And that is to be a direct order from me. Tell them, they will be joining Gollum in his cell in the dungeons if they try anything foolhardy.
If anything, Rasadan looked like he would rather face the Ringwraiths but acquiesced and departed to do the King's bidding and to convey his orders regarding their strategy to Captain Erundul.
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
It was that very night of summer, yet moonless and starless, that orcs came on us unawares, we drove them off after some time; they were many and fierce, but they came from over the mountains, and were unused to the woods. When the battle was over, we found that Gollum was gone, and his guards were slain or taken. It then seemed plain to us that the attack had been made for his rescue, and that he knew of it beforehand. How that was contrived we cannot guess; but Gollum is cunning, and the spies of the Enemy are many. The dark things that were driven out in the year of the Dragon's fall have returned in greater numbers, and Mirkwood is again an evil place, save where our realm is maintained. - Legolas, the Council of Elrond.
Shifting uneasily and looking up at Gollum through the many branches, Legolas's hand slipped to his weapons as he felt the first frisson of danger skitter along his nerves. A sharp gesture to be quiet silenced the chattering Elves and sullen ranger and in an instant Laston's hand had drifted to his sword and he was studying the Prince with a practiced eye. "What is it tithen ernil?" he asked seriously, knowing that something had gotten Legolas's full attention and most likely, it wasn't something good or harmless,
"There's a shadow, something fell on the air. I've got a shadow... somewhere, over there." he said, tracking a dark figure as it slipped through the undergrowth of the forest, drawing the others' eyes to it as well.
"I wonder if this might not be that bad thing we were expecting." Aragorn said, not exactly ecstatic that his prediction was looking like it was going to come true.
"Are you happy now Dúnadan?" Isfin snapped, "Must mortals always plague us with their curse of trouble!"
Her whining earned her several scathing glares before Aragorn asked dryly, "I'm delirious. Perhaps you could return your attention to whatever's skulking about in the trees now?"
They all watched as the figure, shrouded and hooded in black, stepped forward without seeming to have any intention of drawing a weapon. It just stood there, staring at them.
"That's odd." Aragorn commented.
The figure held up a hand and in a rush, at least six dozen figures rushed out from where they had been previously hidden, stunning the Elves who had had no knowledge of the orcs presence at all. No ordinary orcs could slip past Elven senses like that.
"Well, I think 'odd' just got upgraded to 'bad.'" Legolas commented, "Something's cloaked their presence! To the trees! We must get some leverage to shoot our arrows or we'll be overwhelmed on the ground."
"But Legolas! What abo-" Ismagil started to demand as he made for the nearest non-Gollum occupied tree.
"Ismagil!" the blonde archer exclaimed in frustration, "We're going -- to have plenty of time to talk later." he cried as the cruse black arrows of the enemy started to bombard them.
They never made it to the trees as the hail of arrows cut them off and Gollum raced from his position to join his rescuers. Laston ordered them to run for it, they would do no good against such odds, and it served no purpose with their prisoner escaped and so they tried to make it back to a safer area of Mirkwood but it was not to be.
The second wave slammed into them from the direction they had been running, and now they were surrounded. Shining Elvish swords were whipped out but they could only do so much against such numbers.
Inevitably they were all separated, splitting into the approved fighting style when in such a situation, namely fighting back to back. Laston and Caladar, fighting together were nearly on the opposite side of the skirmish to the duo of Legolas and Aragorn. That was a situation they were trying to hardest to remedy but to no avail. Raising his voice to be heard over the din of clashing metal and the animalistic grunts and snarls of the orcs, he called, "If you see the opportunity to go, make a run for it. We'll meet up at the palace!" to his fellow companions.
Isfin and Ismagil followed the advice immediately, but they moved too soon and were both cut down before they made it through the ranks of orcs. None of their friends and companions saw their demise as they were engaged into fights to the death of their own.
Legolas and Aragorn managed to seize an opening and dived through it, Aragorn following the Elf as the more experienced forester darted into the thicker undergrowth, seeking as much cover as possible while they put distance between themselves and the orcs.
From behind them came the high-pitched bone-chilling screech of a Nazgûl, swiftly followed by the maddened roar of orcs as they followed them.
*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**
A/N: Look about ten thousand words this chapter! Yay me! Well, what do you think? Give me your feedback. Next up: Thranduil finds out about his son and Aragorn. We find out what happened to the terrible two. And will Mirkwood survive the attack?
Character list:
Arataur - member of Gildor's travelling party. (OC)
Athon - leader of a scouting party that found Aragorn. (OC)
Berion - Erundul's second in command. (OC)
Brethil - one of Mirkwood's captains. (OC)
Caladar - Legolas's First Guard. (OC)
Erundul - Captain of Mirkwood's guards. (OC)
Gildor - son of Inglor. A Noldorin Elf from Aman. Resides in Rivendell for the most part.
Isfin - member of Athon's scouting party. (canon)
Ismagil - member of Athon's scouting party. (OC)
Laston - Captain in Mirkwood's army. Served King Oropher. (OC)
Lendeth - Queen of Greenwood the Great. Wife of Oropher. Died of grief after his death in the year 3434 of the Second Age. (OC)
Meleth - member of Gildor's travelling party. (OC)
Nevraith - serving maid to King Thranduil. (OC)
Oropher - King of Greenwood (Second Age Mirkwood.) He refused to follow Gil-galad's lead in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and he led a charge too soon, losing two thirds of his army and dying himself. He was the father of Thranduil. Died SA 3434. (canon)
Rasadan - one of Mirkwood's captains. (OC)
Tuluion - Advisor to King Thranduil. Was previously an advisor to King Oropher. (OC)
Khamûl - Ringwraith. Second only to the Witch-King. Also known as the 'Black Easterling'. Was perhaps the wraith with the strongest capability of thinking for himself but had the weakest powers during the day. In charge of Dol Guldur.
Southron in a snowstorm remark - Southrons come from the hot lands equivalent to around Africa in that in our world. So they wouldn't be getting any snow there. (lucky things!)
tithen ernil - little prince in Sindarin.