Thanks to all of you who reviewed. I'm so glad you all like it!
College is wonderful, but tiring. I have yet to figure out why they say Freshmen gain wait. I feel like I've walked around the world a few dozen times! But I'll have some nice looking legs when all is said and done. :)
Disclaimer: Not mine, remember? If they were mine, I'd be going to Harvard or Yale instead of UT Martin, though it's an awesome school.
The Silent Prince
Chapter 13: In Darkness and in Light
The remainder of the Company set out not too long after the Elf and two humans departed after the Uruk-hai. The hobbits were quiet, worried about their friends and about the passage that lay before them. All four were beginning to realize that this Quest was turning out quite different from what they had expected.
Gimli alone seemed to be unworried, speaking of how happy he was to be traveling without any accursed Elves stopping every five minutes to smell the flowers or listen to the trees whisper. "The pointy-ears may be keen of sense and skilled with bows and arrows, but give me a score of Dwarves anytime. We are stout of heart and not quick to flee from battle. Many an Orc has lost it's head under the blade of a Dwarf's ax."
Gandalf smiled as he lead the group deeper into the forest. "I do not doubt your words, Master Gimli. I have seen the valor and bravery of the Dwarves and it is not something to be spoken of lightly. But I would not discount the worth of the Elves so quickly. You might find yourself having to depend on them in days to come."
Gimli snorted. "The day I find myself depending on an Elf will be the day I shave my beard and lay down my ax."
The wizard laughed. "Be glad that Ylana and Legolas were not here for they would hold you to that promise. I will not remind you of it when that day arrives."
Gimli growled but said no more. He knew that he would never best Gandalf in a battle of words and wits. But he was still much happier now that there were no Elves with them.
Frodo, on the other hand, missed them greatly. He missed the musical sound of their voices, though, in truth, Legolas did not speak much. He missed the light that they each radiated. He missed Ylana's stories, Legolas's songs. He missed their heightened senses and deadly skills. Most of all, he missed their reassuring presence.
He missed Aragorn and Boromir too, though they had all just left. He had grown rather close to the Ranger and looked to him for courage and guidance. While he felt a bit uncomfortable around Boromir, Merry and Pippin had grown rather fond of the human warrior who spent a considerable amount of time with the two young hobbits.
Frodo wished with all his heart that he could simply throw the Ring into some deep cave and go home. But he knew that he couldn't. The Ring had to be destroyed, and he alone had been appointed for that task. There was no turning back. Not for him.
He wondered if any of them would make it back home.
"Gandalf, what all exactly is in this Dark Spot?" That was Pippin, a note of fear and curiosity in his voice. "Is it more Orcs? Or those Wolf things?"
The wizard shook his head. "No, Pippin. The things in the Spot are much, much worse. Even Orcs and Wargs are afraid to go in there. Creatures like no other dwell in that black area. Creatures some how twisted beyond recognition. I have only passed through the Dark Spot once, and that was many, many years ago. I fear it has grown worse since."
Pippin paled considerably, and Merry gulped.
"They must have never come against a Dwarf before," Gimli said stoutly. He hefted his ax and rested it on his shoulder. "I will show them what it means to feel fear."
"Do not be too hasty in your boasts," the Istari said sternly. "Men and Elves stout of heart and highly skilled have gone in there, never to return. The air is cold and thick. It stops your breath. And its evil seeps into you, threatening to stop your heart. Terror is what you feel. Terror like you have never felt before."
To this Gimli had no answer. No boast of how Dwarves know no terror. Simply silence. He knew Gandalf was right and had no wish to argue with him.
"And you think we can make it through safely?" Sam asked. "I don't mean to sound 'opeless, Mister Gandalf. But how are we going to do this? Maybe we should go around."
A smile returned to Gandalf's face. "You state a fair point, Master Gamgee. It would seem rather hopeless. It would seem hopeless even if we had a vast army aiding us. But I do have a plan. A plan that requires much of you and your companions. But it should get us through safely."
That made Sam feel a good deal better. Gandalf was a very wise man. Sam trusted him completely. If he thought they could make it through this place, then they would.
"I still wish we could go around," Frodo said meaningfully. "Aragorn said we couldn't because it would take too much time. But now that we'll have to wait for the others once we reach Terin, it shouldn't matter."
"I'm with him," Pippin said eagerly. "I mean, it'll take them a few days to get there and back. It won't take us that long to go around. Please? There's no reason to confront danger when we don't have to, right?"
Merry looked at his cousin with something akin to awe. "That's the first smart thing I've heard you say since we started this Quest, Pip."
The youngest hobbit beamed with pride.
Gandalf shook his head. "As much wisdom is in Master Peregrine's words, we still must stay on our course. It would take us days to go around. We would most likely arrive in Terin at the same time as our friends. Besides, with our dwindled numbers, I do not wish to stay out in the open longer than necessary. Remember that we do not have our swordsmen or archers."
The hobbits' faces fell, but they remained quiet. Gandalf was their leader. No matter what their arguments, no matter how much they argued, he had the final say. If he was determined to go through the Dark Spot, then they would.
One of them, at least, was staying optimistic.
"Those fell creatures will get a taste of terror," Gimli declared, tightening his grip on his ax. "They have never seen a Dwarf before. I'll show them what it means to feel fear."
Gandalf chuckled to himself, but he did not doubt the Dwarf's words one bit.
The Dwarves were a stout and hardy folk. Stubborn, yes, and a bit greedy. But good nevertheless. They had once exterminated all the Orcs in the North in the Battle of Azanulbizar, a battle that was famous in the history of the Elves. In the Battle of Unnumbered Tears only the Dwarves had been able to stand the Dragonfire. They were used to heat and wore masks of steel to protect their faces. And it was with a group of Dwarves---including Gimli's father---that Gandalf and Bilbo had adventured with to reclaim the Lonely Mountain from the Dragon Smaug. A Quest that had been successful.
Yes, Gandalf had no doubt in the strength of Dwarves. But he knew that, once they had entered the Dark Spot, even Gimli, son of Gloin would know terror.
This he kept to himself. Gimli's boasting kept their spirits and hopes high. And that, the wizard reasoned, was something they all would need.
He came to a stream then and halted, staring across the gurgling waters at his foe. "There it is," he murmured. "The Dark Spot."
~It *looks* evil.~
That was the first thought that came to Frodo's mind as he viewed the expanse of forest that lay in front of him. The trees were all gnarled and twisted. Tortured looking. No leaves hung upon their branches. They were all bunched together so that hardly a ray of sunshine filtered into the forest. Just looking at it was enough to fill even an a Dwarf's heart with dread.
Frodo wished his two Elves were here now. Aragorn and Boromir as well. Their bows, swords, guidance and friendship provided a great comfort to him. A comfort that he sorely missed now that he was faced with such a terrifying obstacle.
The hobbit shook his head, silent chiding himself. ~I am being selfish. It is probably a good thing that the Elves are not here. Especially Legolas, who is a Wood-Elf. The sight of these trees so tortured would fill their hearts with sorrow. No, it is better that they took another route. Perhaps they will be able to avoid it on their way to Terin.~
Gandalf stood staring at the woods. It had been many a long year since he had passed through the Dark Spot, but he clearly remembered the terror that he had felt. And he had been in the company of a group of Elves and Men!
The wizard could not deny the fear he felt now. Every fiber of his being told him to agree with the hobbits, to go around and avoid it completely. But, in his heart and mind, he knew that that route was not a choice. They would go through. With the plan that he had, Gandalf was glad that it was only a small band that he traveled with.
Gandalf turned to face the others, a stern look on his face. "My plan is simple, but, as I said, it will require much on your part." His steely gaze locked onto Merry and Pippin. "*Especially* from you two."
Both of the two young hobbits looked down, color rising in their cheeks. They were mischievous, even by hobbit standards. They had been the ones to set off Gandalf's Smaug firework at Bilbo's birthday party. Sometimes the wizard wondered why he had allowed Elrond to let them come along.
The he saw the light-heartedness they brought to the group, to Frodo, and he had his answer.
He began outlying his plan, his expression and voice softening. While only a little light penetrates the Dark Spot, many of the creatures in there do not like to come out during the daytime. I will put a cloaking spell over our group, one that will shield us from unfriendly eyes. But you must remain *absolutely quiet.*" He stressed this last point, his eyes locked with everyone else's in turn. "One word, one *sound* will alert the creatures that *are* about to our presence. And while I do not doubt any of our skills, I have no desire to fight anything in there with just our small band. I have come in here before with dozens of skilled warriors, and my fear was no less."
Frodo closed his eyes as he heard the others groan and gasp. That was *not* what they needed to hear. Gandalf was their leader, wise and brave. Whether they realized it or not, everyone in the Fellowship---Ylana included---looked up to the wizard. To hear that he was afraid did nothing to quell their own fears.
Once again, the hobbit wished the others were here. This time, though, he did not feel so guilty.
"How long will it take us to get through?" Frodo heard Merry ask. He opened his eyes to study Gandalf, waiting to hear his answer.
The stern look was back on the wizard's face. "We should be out before sundown...*if* there are no incidents. And I pray that there are none, for to be in the Dark Spot after nightfall is equivalent to suicide."
All the color drained from Frodo's face. He had rushed bravely into battle against the Orcs, and believed that he would be able to hold his own against whatever horrors lurked deep in the woods. However, as Gandalf continued talking, it etched more and more of Frodo's confidence away. By now, he was absolutely terrified. He could only imagine what the others were feeling.
He *really* wished they could go around!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
It only took a few moments for Gandalf to complete his cloaking spell, Gimli all the while muttering that Dwarves preferred rushing into battle rather than using stealth. But when Gandalf shushed him, he raised no argument and said no more.
Now they were entering the Dark Spot. A chill passed over Frodo as he stepped past the gnarled trees. One look at his surroundings told him that the 'Dark Spot' had been aptly named.
A pale light was all that allowed them to see their path under their path under their feet. The air was much cooler and seemed to steal Frodo's breath strait from his lungs. The wind made an eerie whistling sound as it found its way through the trees, sounding as if a thousand tortured souls were crying out in despair. If he strained his ears, Frodo swore he could make out two words.
"*Turn back,*" those voices seemed to be begging. "*Turn back!*"
Frodo wished he could. Every fiber of his being was telling him to turn around, run out of there screaming like the banshee he'd once heard in the Old Forest. To chuck the Ring into the scream and run all the way back to the Shire, to Bag End, never again to emerge.
~Now you're just being selfish.,~ he chided himself. ~You know you cannot do that, no matter how much you would like to. You're the only one who can do this. Lord Elrond said so. The fate of the world hangs in your hands! Think of the others. Think of Legolas. He could have left when he heard about the Orcs coming after him. Yet he chose to stay and fight, now he's at the mercy of Saruman. All because he believes in this Quest, in me. I won't let him down. I won't let any of them down.~
The silent argument made Frodo feel better. It boosted his morale. The silence and absolute *stillness* of the forest was deafening loud and hearing a voice, even if it was his own inside his head, kept him from going crazy. And it helped him to ignore the feeling that a hundred pairs of eyes were locked onto him. Which, of course, was impossible. Nothing could see him!
Right?
Sam, walking close to Frodo, shuddered and pulled his cloak tighter around him. Merry and Pippin huddled closer together, also wrapping themselves in their cloaks. Gimli's ax was in his hands at the ready. The Dwarf's eyes continued to dart around, trying to take in everything at once. Gandalf had his staff in one hand and his sword, Glamdring, in the other.
Frodo pulled out Sting, feeling comfort in the weight of the Elven-blade in his hand. It also gave him a measure of courage, knowing that he had some defense against the evil that lay around him like a thick blanket.
For his part, Gandalf was handling all this in a very calm manner. Glamdring was in his hand more for a feeling of comfort than in defense. His staff was in his other hand, being used as a walking stick. He could feel eyes upon him, but knew that it was more out of curiosity than malice. The creatures knew that something was different about their forest, something strange. But they didn't know what it was and therefore didn't care. And, for this, Gandalf was extremely thankful.
Though he remained aware of his surroundings, the Istari let his mind drift to thoughts of the rest of his Company. More importantly, to a certain blond Elf from Mirkwood.
Legolas was strong. Not just in body but in heart, spirit, and mind as well. Rarely did he allow grief to touch him, preferring to comfort others in their time of need. It had always been so. Ever since Gandalf had met the prince nearly five hundred years ago. He was always concerned more with the well-being of others than himself. While to most he seemed aloof and unemotional, he did everything he could to help his friends. A song, a kind word. Legolas always seemed to know what to do and when.
Yet that had not been the case when Gandalf had again encountered the Elf in Rivendell a little over a week ago. Legolas had spoken harshly to Boromir, almost in a mean, taunting way. He had stepped down when Aragorn asked him to, but was soon up again. The wizard had been shocked, and, from the looks on their faces, so were the other members of the Council who knew the prince. Never before had he behaved in such a manner.
After the Council had ended, Gandalf had gone to Lord Elrond with his concerns. As soon as he had mentioned that he wanted to aquire of Legolas, the Elf had lead the wizard into his study and locked the door, leaving strict orders that he was not to be disturbed.
That had been Gandalf's first sign that he was indeed correct in his thinking that something was wrong with the young prince. The second came once they were inside the study. Lord Elrond, always informal when around Gandalf or other members of his kin, had promptly asked the wizard to take a seat as he himself dropped into the nearest chair. "So. You noticed Legolas's behavior as well."
As Gandalf slowly sank into a chair, the Elf began his tale. He spoke of how Legolas had arrived with a host of other Mirkwood Elves, much to Elrond's surprise. Legolas explained that he had been sent by his father to tell of Gollum's escape from the Mirkwood Elves. That had been a surprise in itself, for Lord Elrond could not see the proud King Thranduil sending his younger son on such an insignificant trip. When he had voiced his surprise, one of Legolas's escorts had spoken up, ignoring the angry look directed his way by his prince. He spoke of how Legolas had been attacked by an unknown assailant. How Thranduil had sent him instead of a messenger to Rivendell so that he could be Healed by Elrond and to get away from his attacker.
"His wounds were deep," Elrond had said with a shudder. "Bruises, lacerations, a broken rib... The attack on him was not calculated, but born out of savagery. I'm surprised he was bale to withstand the journey from Mirkwood to Rivendell."
This was indeed grievous news to the wizard, for he was very fond of the young Elf. But his concern lay along a different path. "And what of his heart and mind, Master Elrond? Are those well? For, it seemed to me at the Council that he was not his normal self."
The Elf had sighed heavily, his eyes filled with worry. "No, Gandalf. All is not well within our young prince. And I fear for him. I fear for him greatly."
A fear, Gandalf now realized, that had not been misplaced.
Legolas carried a deep burden, something that weighed heavily upon his heart. Even the hobbits, who had never met the Elf before, could sense that he was not himself. When Ylana had arrived, she and Aragorn had been able to bring back some of the Legolas that they had once known, given him strength.
Gandalf only hoped that Legolas still had enough strength to fight Saruman's wizardry.
A sound brought the wizard back into reality. He quickly whirled on the hobbits and Gimli, an accusing glare already on his ace. But his companions simply looked at him in question. Not a guilty look could be found on any of their faces.
No. None of the hobbits. They would be much too frightened to make any noise. And Gimli knew better. Something else then.
He heard it again. As quickly as his creaking joints would allow him, he crouched, Glamdring coming up.
Behind him, Frodo had also raised Sting, clutching it tightly. Fear coursed through him. Something had startled Gandalf, not an easy feat. While he was no Elf, the Istari still possessed keen senses.
Frodo's courage was once again chipped at. But, when he looked at his companions, who also had their swords out, he knew that his fear was nothing compared to theirs. ~You have to be the strong one.~
His first instinct was to call out to Gandalf, ask him what was wrong. But the wizard's strict orders not to speak stopped him from doing so. This was frustrating for the hobbit. If something was going to attack him, he'd certainly like to know ahead of time!
Frodo looked through the dark forest. Though his vision was poor, the hobbit could just make out a pair of yellow eyes staring at them from a tree, and he could plainly hear a loud clacking noise which seemed to be made by teeth striking each other.
Perhaps one of the dark creatures, through the dark power that the whole forest seemed to be filled with, had been able to see through Gandalf's cloaking spell.
These thoughts fluttered through Frodo's mind, bringing him dangerously close to the edge of panic. He gulped and gripped the hilt of Sting so hard his fingers looked as if all the skin had been stripped from the bone, they were so white. ~I'm going to die in this dreadful forest. We're all going to die and Sauron will have his Ring back.~
They stayed like that for a long moment, no one moving as they awaited to be attacked by Eru-only knew what.
Finally when it seemed as if there was no danger, Gandalf relaxed and gestured for the others to continue following him. He put a finger to his lips to remind them to stay silent, then headed deeper into the forest.
Frodo's heart was pounding so hard that he was sure every living thing within a hundred miles could hear it. Any minute no he expected it to break through his chest.
Gandalf's pace had quickened enough to now be classified as a jog rather than a walk. Had any human, Elf, Dwarf, or Hobbit been watching, they would have quickly realized that this was no ordinary old man. But there were no other humans, Elves, Dwarves, or Hobbits around. The small Company was all alone in the forest.
How long had it been since they had parted ways with Aragorn, Boromir, and Ylana? An hour? Two? Maybe even more? Frodo didn't know. In this cold, dark, silent forest there was no way of telling time.
The hobbit gave no thought at all to his actions. His body seemed to move on its own accord, propelled forward by fear. His mind was whirling, a thousand thoughts plaguing him a t once. The most prominent was what would happen if any of them accidentally made an unnecessary noise while running.
Unfortunately, he got his answer only a second or so later.
Pippin had also felt the eyes upon the group as they moved through the Dark Spot. As their pace quickened, he couldn't help but cast an uneasy look over his shoulder to see if anyone---or anything---was following them.
Which was why he didn't see the tree root until it was too late. His foot caught it, sending him forward. He tried to stop himself. He really did. But the cry that escaped his lips was completely involuntary.
Gandalf whirled around with a look of rage on his face, ready to berate whichever fool it had been to utter a sound. But he stopped when he saw Pippin on the ground, looking absolutely terrified.
The wizard strode forward, helped the hobbit to his feet and uttered one word, knowing that the time for stealth was over.
"Run!"
They needed no urging. A chorus of howls had started up around them, sending chills down all their spines. Including Gimli, who was no longer so sure of his earlier words. All they were focused on was getting as far away from these howls as they could as fast as they could.
Gandalf cursed his decision to go into the Dark Spot without any more protection. ~We should have gone around as the hobbits suggested. Or I should have asked Boromir to accompany us rather than Aragorn and Ylana. Too late now.~
Gandalf had no wish to battle. Not here, not now. He could fight well, true. And Gimli was dangerous with his ax. The hobbits, when moved to action, were not bad fighters.
But the entirety of the wicked forest against six people were not odds the wizard liked. So he ran. While some would have scolded him for being a coward, other, more experienced men would have applauded him for realizing that he was outnumbered and ran.
Gandalf would fight if he must. But he didn't see a need to. They were running at a very fast pace. No creature had bounded from the darkness to attack them. besides, now that the wizard had the time to view his surroundings, his heart lifted. For while they had nothing to mark the passage of time, they had been walking for a considerable part of the day. The end of the forest---of the Dark Spot---lay only a few miles ahead. Then they would be free, protected from the evil by Arien's protective light.
Gandalf turned to mark their fortune, minding to keep his feet lest he stumble and fall as young Pippin had. He had no doubt that these creatures somehow knew that he was the leader. If he were to stumble and fall, it would be over. The creatures would descend on the Company before they would have time to scream.
The howls were still echoing through the forest but sounded no closer. Satisfied, Gandalf turned back around to continue running.
It was the shriek of Pippin that alerted the others to the trouble.
And trouble it was. A large creature, resembling at length a wolf, had jumped into the path of the Company, snarling. Yellow eyes glared at them and poisoned saliva dripped from its fangs, making sizzling noises as it hit the ground.
Frodo found himself quaking with fear. ~Not good...~
"Gimli!" came the wizard's shout. But it was unnecessary, for the Dwarf had already lifted his ax against the creature. It attempted to bite the stout being, to send its poison into his bloodstream. But Gimli was too quick, always managing to duck out of the way of the wolf's maw.
All in all, Gimli made short work of the wolf, giving Frodo time for a quick breath before they were off running again.
As they rounded a corner, Frodo felt his heart leap considerably. For, at the other end of the stretch of wood, was an opening. And through that opening, he could make out the strong rays of the afternoon sun. ~We're almost out of here!~
Then he had to blink. Something was wrong. The trees were moving, making the entrance smaller. ~That can't be. The light is playing tricks with my eyes.~
Then he blinked again, and he knew that it was no trick. The trees were trying to keep them from escaping.
"Run!" Gandalf shouted again, quite needlessly, for they were all running as fast as they could, feet hardly seeming to touch the ground. But the wizard still felt the need to encourage them on. "Run like you've never run before!"
Frodo did. He tuned out the sounds of the howls, the yellow eyes, the poisoned fangs... All he was focused on was that ever-dwindling shaft of light that lay before him. His heart was beating rapidly and it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd been running at a dead sprint for the past moment or so. He would freely admit that this was the scariest moment so far in his Quest. he did not even want to think about the fact that they weren't going to be able to get out.
Gimli was the first to reach the end. By now the exit was only about six feet high and two feet wide. The Dwarf leapt through it easily, followed by all four hobbits and Bill, who was neighing loudly, eyes rolling wildly.
By the time Gandalf came to the exit, it had shrunk to five feet in height. The others watched anxiously as the wizard dove forward through the opening and rolled, coming to a stop as he crashed into the bodies of his companions.
All watched in awe as the exit became smaller and smaller until it was completely gone. The trees around the Dark Spot became one unbroken line.
Frodo lay back on the ground, eyes closed and chest heaving. His body began trembling as all the terror of the past few hours caught up to him. Mingled with that terror, though, was an overwhelming sense of relief.
They'd made it through.
--------------------------------
They wasted no time at all in starting off again through the forest. The nice, friendly, familiar looking forest. Though they were all weary, they wanted to get as far away from this evil place as possible.
When the last rays of sun had disappeared over the horizon, Gandalf deemed they had gone far enough and that they would camp there for the night.
Frodo wasted no time in dropping to the ground and rolling up in his cloak. He didn't care about food. he didn't care about a fire. He just wanted to sleep.
Dimly he was aware of Gandalf speaking to someone else---~probably Gimli~---expressing concern about Aragorn and the others trying to come back through the Dark Spot with the exit sealed off.
Then he drifted off blissfully into sleep.
College is wonderful, but tiring. I have yet to figure out why they say Freshmen gain wait. I feel like I've walked around the world a few dozen times! But I'll have some nice looking legs when all is said and done. :)
Disclaimer: Not mine, remember? If they were mine, I'd be going to Harvard or Yale instead of UT Martin, though it's an awesome school.
The Silent Prince
Chapter 13: In Darkness and in Light
The remainder of the Company set out not too long after the Elf and two humans departed after the Uruk-hai. The hobbits were quiet, worried about their friends and about the passage that lay before them. All four were beginning to realize that this Quest was turning out quite different from what they had expected.
Gimli alone seemed to be unworried, speaking of how happy he was to be traveling without any accursed Elves stopping every five minutes to smell the flowers or listen to the trees whisper. "The pointy-ears may be keen of sense and skilled with bows and arrows, but give me a score of Dwarves anytime. We are stout of heart and not quick to flee from battle. Many an Orc has lost it's head under the blade of a Dwarf's ax."
Gandalf smiled as he lead the group deeper into the forest. "I do not doubt your words, Master Gimli. I have seen the valor and bravery of the Dwarves and it is not something to be spoken of lightly. But I would not discount the worth of the Elves so quickly. You might find yourself having to depend on them in days to come."
Gimli snorted. "The day I find myself depending on an Elf will be the day I shave my beard and lay down my ax."
The wizard laughed. "Be glad that Ylana and Legolas were not here for they would hold you to that promise. I will not remind you of it when that day arrives."
Gimli growled but said no more. He knew that he would never best Gandalf in a battle of words and wits. But he was still much happier now that there were no Elves with them.
Frodo, on the other hand, missed them greatly. He missed the musical sound of their voices, though, in truth, Legolas did not speak much. He missed the light that they each radiated. He missed Ylana's stories, Legolas's songs. He missed their heightened senses and deadly skills. Most of all, he missed their reassuring presence.
He missed Aragorn and Boromir too, though they had all just left. He had grown rather close to the Ranger and looked to him for courage and guidance. While he felt a bit uncomfortable around Boromir, Merry and Pippin had grown rather fond of the human warrior who spent a considerable amount of time with the two young hobbits.
Frodo wished with all his heart that he could simply throw the Ring into some deep cave and go home. But he knew that he couldn't. The Ring had to be destroyed, and he alone had been appointed for that task. There was no turning back. Not for him.
He wondered if any of them would make it back home.
"Gandalf, what all exactly is in this Dark Spot?" That was Pippin, a note of fear and curiosity in his voice. "Is it more Orcs? Or those Wolf things?"
The wizard shook his head. "No, Pippin. The things in the Spot are much, much worse. Even Orcs and Wargs are afraid to go in there. Creatures like no other dwell in that black area. Creatures some how twisted beyond recognition. I have only passed through the Dark Spot once, and that was many, many years ago. I fear it has grown worse since."
Pippin paled considerably, and Merry gulped.
"They must have never come against a Dwarf before," Gimli said stoutly. He hefted his ax and rested it on his shoulder. "I will show them what it means to feel fear."
"Do not be too hasty in your boasts," the Istari said sternly. "Men and Elves stout of heart and highly skilled have gone in there, never to return. The air is cold and thick. It stops your breath. And its evil seeps into you, threatening to stop your heart. Terror is what you feel. Terror like you have never felt before."
To this Gimli had no answer. No boast of how Dwarves know no terror. Simply silence. He knew Gandalf was right and had no wish to argue with him.
"And you think we can make it through safely?" Sam asked. "I don't mean to sound 'opeless, Mister Gandalf. But how are we going to do this? Maybe we should go around."
A smile returned to Gandalf's face. "You state a fair point, Master Gamgee. It would seem rather hopeless. It would seem hopeless even if we had a vast army aiding us. But I do have a plan. A plan that requires much of you and your companions. But it should get us through safely."
That made Sam feel a good deal better. Gandalf was a very wise man. Sam trusted him completely. If he thought they could make it through this place, then they would.
"I still wish we could go around," Frodo said meaningfully. "Aragorn said we couldn't because it would take too much time. But now that we'll have to wait for the others once we reach Terin, it shouldn't matter."
"I'm with him," Pippin said eagerly. "I mean, it'll take them a few days to get there and back. It won't take us that long to go around. Please? There's no reason to confront danger when we don't have to, right?"
Merry looked at his cousin with something akin to awe. "That's the first smart thing I've heard you say since we started this Quest, Pip."
The youngest hobbit beamed with pride.
Gandalf shook his head. "As much wisdom is in Master Peregrine's words, we still must stay on our course. It would take us days to go around. We would most likely arrive in Terin at the same time as our friends. Besides, with our dwindled numbers, I do not wish to stay out in the open longer than necessary. Remember that we do not have our swordsmen or archers."
The hobbits' faces fell, but they remained quiet. Gandalf was their leader. No matter what their arguments, no matter how much they argued, he had the final say. If he was determined to go through the Dark Spot, then they would.
One of them, at least, was staying optimistic.
"Those fell creatures will get a taste of terror," Gimli declared, tightening his grip on his ax. "They have never seen a Dwarf before. I'll show them what it means to feel fear."
Gandalf chuckled to himself, but he did not doubt the Dwarf's words one bit.
The Dwarves were a stout and hardy folk. Stubborn, yes, and a bit greedy. But good nevertheless. They had once exterminated all the Orcs in the North in the Battle of Azanulbizar, a battle that was famous in the history of the Elves. In the Battle of Unnumbered Tears only the Dwarves had been able to stand the Dragonfire. They were used to heat and wore masks of steel to protect their faces. And it was with a group of Dwarves---including Gimli's father---that Gandalf and Bilbo had adventured with to reclaim the Lonely Mountain from the Dragon Smaug. A Quest that had been successful.
Yes, Gandalf had no doubt in the strength of Dwarves. But he knew that, once they had entered the Dark Spot, even Gimli, son of Gloin would know terror.
This he kept to himself. Gimli's boasting kept their spirits and hopes high. And that, the wizard reasoned, was something they all would need.
He came to a stream then and halted, staring across the gurgling waters at his foe. "There it is," he murmured. "The Dark Spot."
~It *looks* evil.~
That was the first thought that came to Frodo's mind as he viewed the expanse of forest that lay in front of him. The trees were all gnarled and twisted. Tortured looking. No leaves hung upon their branches. They were all bunched together so that hardly a ray of sunshine filtered into the forest. Just looking at it was enough to fill even an a Dwarf's heart with dread.
Frodo wished his two Elves were here now. Aragorn and Boromir as well. Their bows, swords, guidance and friendship provided a great comfort to him. A comfort that he sorely missed now that he was faced with such a terrifying obstacle.
The hobbit shook his head, silent chiding himself. ~I am being selfish. It is probably a good thing that the Elves are not here. Especially Legolas, who is a Wood-Elf. The sight of these trees so tortured would fill their hearts with sorrow. No, it is better that they took another route. Perhaps they will be able to avoid it on their way to Terin.~
Gandalf stood staring at the woods. It had been many a long year since he had passed through the Dark Spot, but he clearly remembered the terror that he had felt. And he had been in the company of a group of Elves and Men!
The wizard could not deny the fear he felt now. Every fiber of his being told him to agree with the hobbits, to go around and avoid it completely. But, in his heart and mind, he knew that that route was not a choice. They would go through. With the plan that he had, Gandalf was glad that it was only a small band that he traveled with.
Gandalf turned to face the others, a stern look on his face. "My plan is simple, but, as I said, it will require much on your part." His steely gaze locked onto Merry and Pippin. "*Especially* from you two."
Both of the two young hobbits looked down, color rising in their cheeks. They were mischievous, even by hobbit standards. They had been the ones to set off Gandalf's Smaug firework at Bilbo's birthday party. Sometimes the wizard wondered why he had allowed Elrond to let them come along.
The he saw the light-heartedness they brought to the group, to Frodo, and he had his answer.
He began outlying his plan, his expression and voice softening. While only a little light penetrates the Dark Spot, many of the creatures in there do not like to come out during the daytime. I will put a cloaking spell over our group, one that will shield us from unfriendly eyes. But you must remain *absolutely quiet.*" He stressed this last point, his eyes locked with everyone else's in turn. "One word, one *sound* will alert the creatures that *are* about to our presence. And while I do not doubt any of our skills, I have no desire to fight anything in there with just our small band. I have come in here before with dozens of skilled warriors, and my fear was no less."
Frodo closed his eyes as he heard the others groan and gasp. That was *not* what they needed to hear. Gandalf was their leader, wise and brave. Whether they realized it or not, everyone in the Fellowship---Ylana included---looked up to the wizard. To hear that he was afraid did nothing to quell their own fears.
Once again, the hobbit wished the others were here. This time, though, he did not feel so guilty.
"How long will it take us to get through?" Frodo heard Merry ask. He opened his eyes to study Gandalf, waiting to hear his answer.
The stern look was back on the wizard's face. "We should be out before sundown...*if* there are no incidents. And I pray that there are none, for to be in the Dark Spot after nightfall is equivalent to suicide."
All the color drained from Frodo's face. He had rushed bravely into battle against the Orcs, and believed that he would be able to hold his own against whatever horrors lurked deep in the woods. However, as Gandalf continued talking, it etched more and more of Frodo's confidence away. By now, he was absolutely terrified. He could only imagine what the others were feeling.
He *really* wished they could go around!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
It only took a few moments for Gandalf to complete his cloaking spell, Gimli all the while muttering that Dwarves preferred rushing into battle rather than using stealth. But when Gandalf shushed him, he raised no argument and said no more.
Now they were entering the Dark Spot. A chill passed over Frodo as he stepped past the gnarled trees. One look at his surroundings told him that the 'Dark Spot' had been aptly named.
A pale light was all that allowed them to see their path under their path under their feet. The air was much cooler and seemed to steal Frodo's breath strait from his lungs. The wind made an eerie whistling sound as it found its way through the trees, sounding as if a thousand tortured souls were crying out in despair. If he strained his ears, Frodo swore he could make out two words.
"*Turn back,*" those voices seemed to be begging. "*Turn back!*"
Frodo wished he could. Every fiber of his being was telling him to turn around, run out of there screaming like the banshee he'd once heard in the Old Forest. To chuck the Ring into the scream and run all the way back to the Shire, to Bag End, never again to emerge.
~Now you're just being selfish.,~ he chided himself. ~You know you cannot do that, no matter how much you would like to. You're the only one who can do this. Lord Elrond said so. The fate of the world hangs in your hands! Think of the others. Think of Legolas. He could have left when he heard about the Orcs coming after him. Yet he chose to stay and fight, now he's at the mercy of Saruman. All because he believes in this Quest, in me. I won't let him down. I won't let any of them down.~
The silent argument made Frodo feel better. It boosted his morale. The silence and absolute *stillness* of the forest was deafening loud and hearing a voice, even if it was his own inside his head, kept him from going crazy. And it helped him to ignore the feeling that a hundred pairs of eyes were locked onto him. Which, of course, was impossible. Nothing could see him!
Right?
Sam, walking close to Frodo, shuddered and pulled his cloak tighter around him. Merry and Pippin huddled closer together, also wrapping themselves in their cloaks. Gimli's ax was in his hands at the ready. The Dwarf's eyes continued to dart around, trying to take in everything at once. Gandalf had his staff in one hand and his sword, Glamdring, in the other.
Frodo pulled out Sting, feeling comfort in the weight of the Elven-blade in his hand. It also gave him a measure of courage, knowing that he had some defense against the evil that lay around him like a thick blanket.
For his part, Gandalf was handling all this in a very calm manner. Glamdring was in his hand more for a feeling of comfort than in defense. His staff was in his other hand, being used as a walking stick. He could feel eyes upon him, but knew that it was more out of curiosity than malice. The creatures knew that something was different about their forest, something strange. But they didn't know what it was and therefore didn't care. And, for this, Gandalf was extremely thankful.
Though he remained aware of his surroundings, the Istari let his mind drift to thoughts of the rest of his Company. More importantly, to a certain blond Elf from Mirkwood.
Legolas was strong. Not just in body but in heart, spirit, and mind as well. Rarely did he allow grief to touch him, preferring to comfort others in their time of need. It had always been so. Ever since Gandalf had met the prince nearly five hundred years ago. He was always concerned more with the well-being of others than himself. While to most he seemed aloof and unemotional, he did everything he could to help his friends. A song, a kind word. Legolas always seemed to know what to do and when.
Yet that had not been the case when Gandalf had again encountered the Elf in Rivendell a little over a week ago. Legolas had spoken harshly to Boromir, almost in a mean, taunting way. He had stepped down when Aragorn asked him to, but was soon up again. The wizard had been shocked, and, from the looks on their faces, so were the other members of the Council who knew the prince. Never before had he behaved in such a manner.
After the Council had ended, Gandalf had gone to Lord Elrond with his concerns. As soon as he had mentioned that he wanted to aquire of Legolas, the Elf had lead the wizard into his study and locked the door, leaving strict orders that he was not to be disturbed.
That had been Gandalf's first sign that he was indeed correct in his thinking that something was wrong with the young prince. The second came once they were inside the study. Lord Elrond, always informal when around Gandalf or other members of his kin, had promptly asked the wizard to take a seat as he himself dropped into the nearest chair. "So. You noticed Legolas's behavior as well."
As Gandalf slowly sank into a chair, the Elf began his tale. He spoke of how Legolas had arrived with a host of other Mirkwood Elves, much to Elrond's surprise. Legolas explained that he had been sent by his father to tell of Gollum's escape from the Mirkwood Elves. That had been a surprise in itself, for Lord Elrond could not see the proud King Thranduil sending his younger son on such an insignificant trip. When he had voiced his surprise, one of Legolas's escorts had spoken up, ignoring the angry look directed his way by his prince. He spoke of how Legolas had been attacked by an unknown assailant. How Thranduil had sent him instead of a messenger to Rivendell so that he could be Healed by Elrond and to get away from his attacker.
"His wounds were deep," Elrond had said with a shudder. "Bruises, lacerations, a broken rib... The attack on him was not calculated, but born out of savagery. I'm surprised he was bale to withstand the journey from Mirkwood to Rivendell."
This was indeed grievous news to the wizard, for he was very fond of the young Elf. But his concern lay along a different path. "And what of his heart and mind, Master Elrond? Are those well? For, it seemed to me at the Council that he was not his normal self."
The Elf had sighed heavily, his eyes filled with worry. "No, Gandalf. All is not well within our young prince. And I fear for him. I fear for him greatly."
A fear, Gandalf now realized, that had not been misplaced.
Legolas carried a deep burden, something that weighed heavily upon his heart. Even the hobbits, who had never met the Elf before, could sense that he was not himself. When Ylana had arrived, she and Aragorn had been able to bring back some of the Legolas that they had once known, given him strength.
Gandalf only hoped that Legolas still had enough strength to fight Saruman's wizardry.
A sound brought the wizard back into reality. He quickly whirled on the hobbits and Gimli, an accusing glare already on his ace. But his companions simply looked at him in question. Not a guilty look could be found on any of their faces.
No. None of the hobbits. They would be much too frightened to make any noise. And Gimli knew better. Something else then.
He heard it again. As quickly as his creaking joints would allow him, he crouched, Glamdring coming up.
Behind him, Frodo had also raised Sting, clutching it tightly. Fear coursed through him. Something had startled Gandalf, not an easy feat. While he was no Elf, the Istari still possessed keen senses.
Frodo's courage was once again chipped at. But, when he looked at his companions, who also had their swords out, he knew that his fear was nothing compared to theirs. ~You have to be the strong one.~
His first instinct was to call out to Gandalf, ask him what was wrong. But the wizard's strict orders not to speak stopped him from doing so. This was frustrating for the hobbit. If something was going to attack him, he'd certainly like to know ahead of time!
Frodo looked through the dark forest. Though his vision was poor, the hobbit could just make out a pair of yellow eyes staring at them from a tree, and he could plainly hear a loud clacking noise which seemed to be made by teeth striking each other.
Perhaps one of the dark creatures, through the dark power that the whole forest seemed to be filled with, had been able to see through Gandalf's cloaking spell.
These thoughts fluttered through Frodo's mind, bringing him dangerously close to the edge of panic. He gulped and gripped the hilt of Sting so hard his fingers looked as if all the skin had been stripped from the bone, they were so white. ~I'm going to die in this dreadful forest. We're all going to die and Sauron will have his Ring back.~
They stayed like that for a long moment, no one moving as they awaited to be attacked by Eru-only knew what.
Finally when it seemed as if there was no danger, Gandalf relaxed and gestured for the others to continue following him. He put a finger to his lips to remind them to stay silent, then headed deeper into the forest.
Frodo's heart was pounding so hard that he was sure every living thing within a hundred miles could hear it. Any minute no he expected it to break through his chest.
Gandalf's pace had quickened enough to now be classified as a jog rather than a walk. Had any human, Elf, Dwarf, or Hobbit been watching, they would have quickly realized that this was no ordinary old man. But there were no other humans, Elves, Dwarves, or Hobbits around. The small Company was all alone in the forest.
How long had it been since they had parted ways with Aragorn, Boromir, and Ylana? An hour? Two? Maybe even more? Frodo didn't know. In this cold, dark, silent forest there was no way of telling time.
The hobbit gave no thought at all to his actions. His body seemed to move on its own accord, propelled forward by fear. His mind was whirling, a thousand thoughts plaguing him a t once. The most prominent was what would happen if any of them accidentally made an unnecessary noise while running.
Unfortunately, he got his answer only a second or so later.
Pippin had also felt the eyes upon the group as they moved through the Dark Spot. As their pace quickened, he couldn't help but cast an uneasy look over his shoulder to see if anyone---or anything---was following them.
Which was why he didn't see the tree root until it was too late. His foot caught it, sending him forward. He tried to stop himself. He really did. But the cry that escaped his lips was completely involuntary.
Gandalf whirled around with a look of rage on his face, ready to berate whichever fool it had been to utter a sound. But he stopped when he saw Pippin on the ground, looking absolutely terrified.
The wizard strode forward, helped the hobbit to his feet and uttered one word, knowing that the time for stealth was over.
"Run!"
They needed no urging. A chorus of howls had started up around them, sending chills down all their spines. Including Gimli, who was no longer so sure of his earlier words. All they were focused on was getting as far away from these howls as they could as fast as they could.
Gandalf cursed his decision to go into the Dark Spot without any more protection. ~We should have gone around as the hobbits suggested. Or I should have asked Boromir to accompany us rather than Aragorn and Ylana. Too late now.~
Gandalf had no wish to battle. Not here, not now. He could fight well, true. And Gimli was dangerous with his ax. The hobbits, when moved to action, were not bad fighters.
But the entirety of the wicked forest against six people were not odds the wizard liked. So he ran. While some would have scolded him for being a coward, other, more experienced men would have applauded him for realizing that he was outnumbered and ran.
Gandalf would fight if he must. But he didn't see a need to. They were running at a very fast pace. No creature had bounded from the darkness to attack them. besides, now that the wizard had the time to view his surroundings, his heart lifted. For while they had nothing to mark the passage of time, they had been walking for a considerable part of the day. The end of the forest---of the Dark Spot---lay only a few miles ahead. Then they would be free, protected from the evil by Arien's protective light.
Gandalf turned to mark their fortune, minding to keep his feet lest he stumble and fall as young Pippin had. He had no doubt that these creatures somehow knew that he was the leader. If he were to stumble and fall, it would be over. The creatures would descend on the Company before they would have time to scream.
The howls were still echoing through the forest but sounded no closer. Satisfied, Gandalf turned back around to continue running.
It was the shriek of Pippin that alerted the others to the trouble.
And trouble it was. A large creature, resembling at length a wolf, had jumped into the path of the Company, snarling. Yellow eyes glared at them and poisoned saliva dripped from its fangs, making sizzling noises as it hit the ground.
Frodo found himself quaking with fear. ~Not good...~
"Gimli!" came the wizard's shout. But it was unnecessary, for the Dwarf had already lifted his ax against the creature. It attempted to bite the stout being, to send its poison into his bloodstream. But Gimli was too quick, always managing to duck out of the way of the wolf's maw.
All in all, Gimli made short work of the wolf, giving Frodo time for a quick breath before they were off running again.
As they rounded a corner, Frodo felt his heart leap considerably. For, at the other end of the stretch of wood, was an opening. And through that opening, he could make out the strong rays of the afternoon sun. ~We're almost out of here!~
Then he had to blink. Something was wrong. The trees were moving, making the entrance smaller. ~That can't be. The light is playing tricks with my eyes.~
Then he blinked again, and he knew that it was no trick. The trees were trying to keep them from escaping.
"Run!" Gandalf shouted again, quite needlessly, for they were all running as fast as they could, feet hardly seeming to touch the ground. But the wizard still felt the need to encourage them on. "Run like you've never run before!"
Frodo did. He tuned out the sounds of the howls, the yellow eyes, the poisoned fangs... All he was focused on was that ever-dwindling shaft of light that lay before him. His heart was beating rapidly and it had nothing to do with the fact that he'd been running at a dead sprint for the past moment or so. He would freely admit that this was the scariest moment so far in his Quest. he did not even want to think about the fact that they weren't going to be able to get out.
Gimli was the first to reach the end. By now the exit was only about six feet high and two feet wide. The Dwarf leapt through it easily, followed by all four hobbits and Bill, who was neighing loudly, eyes rolling wildly.
By the time Gandalf came to the exit, it had shrunk to five feet in height. The others watched anxiously as the wizard dove forward through the opening and rolled, coming to a stop as he crashed into the bodies of his companions.
All watched in awe as the exit became smaller and smaller until it was completely gone. The trees around the Dark Spot became one unbroken line.
Frodo lay back on the ground, eyes closed and chest heaving. His body began trembling as all the terror of the past few hours caught up to him. Mingled with that terror, though, was an overwhelming sense of relief.
They'd made it through.
--------------------------------
They wasted no time at all in starting off again through the forest. The nice, friendly, familiar looking forest. Though they were all weary, they wanted to get as far away from this evil place as possible.
When the last rays of sun had disappeared over the horizon, Gandalf deemed they had gone far enough and that they would camp there for the night.
Frodo wasted no time in dropping to the ground and rolling up in his cloak. He didn't care about food. he didn't care about a fire. He just wanted to sleep.
Dimly he was aware of Gandalf speaking to someone else---~probably Gimli~---expressing concern about Aragorn and the others trying to come back through the Dark Spot with the exit sealed off.
Then he drifted off blissfully into sleep.