Chapter 7

Help Unlooked for

The ground was covered in twisted, mangled Orc bodies. All were missing limbs and were stuck full of arrows. It was not this that halted Pippin however. Amongst the carnage lay a lighter, smaller form, drenched in both red and black blood. Starlight fell directly onto it.

Dashing forward, Pippin felt tears pricking in his eyes. It couldn't be; it just couldn't be. He fell sobbing to his knees by the body, his worst fear confirmed. Legolas, Elven Prince of Mirkwood lay dead in the mud, surrounded by stinking Orc carcasses. A single black arrow was wedged through him, from the small of his back to directly under the heart.

"Legolas?" His voice was choked with tears. Pippin gently laid his hand on the elf's cheek. Cold as stone. He took one blood soaked hand in his, but again was greeted only by a deathly chill. He fell to bitter weeping. Howls of rage and grief escaped the tiny hobbit's mouth. He begged, pleaded, screamed at Legolas' unmoving form to get up, to live, just to breathe again. But it was in vain and his yells fell upon deaf ears that had never before missed a single breath of air. The elf didn't respond with even the smallest flutter of an eyelash.

Everything about his posture spoke of great pain. All his muscles were tensed in apparent agony and the green eyes so full of life once were now dimmed and had been left to stare in horror at the scene before them. There was no sign of Merry anywhere and if Pippin counted correctly at least one Orc was not among the dead. The plan had failed and Pippin had now lost another friend to the same group of Uruk-hai.

He laid one hand to Legolas' chest and the other to the pulse point on his neck. His heart leapt suddenly as he felt a dull but steady beat. Even then, though, he could feel it slowing.

Terror seized him and with tentative fingers he reached out and touched the arrow imbedded through his companion. Giving as much care as he could to not giving Legolas any extra pain, Pippin rolled the elf onto his side, snapped the fletching off the arrow and flung it into the sea of corpses that surrounded him. Gently he laid Legolas on his back again. Then, with one hand grasped around the arrow just below the head and with the other around the base, he pulled it free of the body in one slow, but steady, movement.

Taking off his own cloak, Pippin wrapped it around Legolas; trying to staunch the loss of precious blood. He looked down at the thin weapon in his hand and blanched as he saw both red blood and black poison both covering it. Throwing it after the fletching, he looked at the elf and was shocked to see that no change had come over his face; though maybe it was a good thing. If he had been conscious then no doubt he would have suffered only more pain from what Pippin had just done.

Desperately, he called out, "Arod, get over here! Arod, if you care for your master at all then you will come here now." The horse trotted into the clearing and came to a stop next to the hobbit, whose eyes burned with a fire that had rarely taken up its residence in them. Leaping up, Pippin fumbled around in the travelling bags till he found their water.

Dropping behind Legolas' head Pippin lifted it up onto his lap. Gently he placed the cap of the bottle on the pale lips and poured a little of the contents into Legolas' mouth. He massaged the throat to help the water down just as he had seen Merry and Sam do for Frodo when he had been stabbed and had hardly been able to move.

Nothing happened.

Despair flooded Pippin and his tears fell onto Legolas' face as the small amount of hope he had fled. There was nothing he could do. It was useless. He sobbed, rocking back and forth in his misery. Every now and again he would check the pulse at Legolas' neck and each time it was harder to find. He mumbled nonsensically under his breath, talking to the elf of their journey and of their different homes, but of course Legolas heard none of it.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. It seemed almost absurd to his mind, but he was desperate and willing to try anything. "Ah El...Elbereth Githoniel, have mercy on me. Save my friends!" He knew that Frodo, Sam, Merry, Aragorn and even Legolas had turned to the Valar in times of trouble. He had never done so himself, but now was the time, if any, to do so. Pippin had heard Merry begged for Frodo's and even his own safety before, when his cousin had thought he was asleep. He had never been brave enough to ask him about it though. When he next saw Merry he wouldn't bother being shy about anything. Life was short and it appeared that if you didn't live as if each day was your last you would end up regretting it. There was so much he had never had a chance to say to any of his friends who he might never see again.

How long he sat there weeping and praying Pippin could never remember, but he was brought sharply back to reality as the ground began to shake. He raised his head and looked about. He could see nothing, but the ground was undoubtedly. It seemed to tremor in a steady rhythm as if many marching feet were making the forest vibrate.

Carefully, he laid Legolas' head back on the ground and stood up. The trembling of the ground was becoming stronger. The trees quavered and the shudders where now so large that the hobbit had difficulty keeping his feet. Something was coming. Something huge.

He stood firm and faced the direction that the noise seemed to be coming from. He could hear a deep rumbling like many voices all chanting together; though he didn't understand the language. He half dreaded what he was about to see and half hoped against hope that it would bring help. In normal circumstances he would certainly have run, but now he needed urgent assistance and this seemed to be the only possible source at this moment. He braced himself, trying to prepare himself for what was coming. Maybe Elbereth had chosen to answer his plead in a slightly unexpected way.

Just when he thought the vibrations and noise had reached their peak he shouted at the top of his voice, trying, and very nearly succeeding, to equal the uproar around him. "Please, whoever you are, help me! I have an elf of Mirkwood with me and he is wounded. Please, I need you to help me!"

Abruptly, silence fell and the land became deathly still and quiet. The silence was almost as loud as the tumult before it. Pippin's breath caught as he heard strange whisperings echoing through the trees. He had sealed his fate, though whether for good or ill was yet to be seen. It was horribly probable that death was about to find both hobbit and elf.

Slowly, a single set of footsteps came towards him, but they were undoubtedly made by a huge creature. Pippin still stood stubbornly, refusing to give in to his mind and legs' desire to bolt. "Don't trust your head, Peregrin, it's not the best part of you," he told himself firmly. He was sure he had heard Sam say something similar once.

Suddenly, a creature came into the clearing and faced the rather bedraggled hobbit with a puzzled expression. For a moment Pippin thought that his heart had stopped beating. His jaw dropped, his eyes goggled and he was sure he was going to faint. He had never imagined anything like this.

"You're a... a tree!" he finished lamely. Indeed that is what it appeared to be to him, except that it had sprouted a face and limbs. It seemed so human yet so otherworldly at the same time.

He could feel his brain trying to give up entirely and abandon this ridiculous situation, but he somehow bullied it into keeping going. Could this possibly be real?

These musings were cut off as the thing spoke in a voice that did sound as if it could have been a tree's; if tree's had been in the habit of talking that is. "TREE!? I am no tree. I am an Ent. Hrum hoom. What do we have here? An elf you say. I like the Elves and knew many once, yet they are all sailing away over the sea. A great shame it is for the world will be the darker without them. But you are not an elf, young one. I don't know what you are, but an elf you are certainly not. Tell me your name and that of this elf you speak of. I would not normally be nearly so hasty, but time presses and we waste valuable amounts of it in this meeting."

Pippin's courage almost failed him. How was he supposed to do this, to speak to a walking, talking tree when he had never had to relate to anything more unusual than the infamous Merry Brandybuck and Frodo Baggins. Pushing his cousins' and Legolas' faces to the front of his mind, he forced himself to speak. "I am Peregrin son of Paladin a hobbit of the Shire in the north. My companion is Legolas Greenleaf, Elven prince of Mirkwood. We have journeyed far together and have fought many battles. We were tracking Orcs across the plains, but despite all our efforts Legolas received an injury which will kill him soon unless a miracle can be done. Please will you help me? If I lose him I shall also lose a great friend along with any hope I ever had of completing my errand."

"Hoom. Well you are in need of assistance aren't you? You have not told me all Master Peregrin that is plain and what you were doing tracking Orcs is a mystery to me but, as I always say, 'don't be hasty.' Let me see this elf of yours then."

Pippin pointed to Legolas' unmoving form, thanks spurting from his mouth haphazardly as the Ent stepped closer to inspect the damage. "A miracle indeed will be needed here, but do not despair just yet, little hobbit; there may be a way to bring him back."

Swiftly, the creature reached down and gently picked up the limp form. His hands worked deftly inspecting the elf for damage and his brow furrowed with worry. "Quickbeem, bring us a small skin of the draft we have."

At his command, another very similar creature emerged as well; carrying a few small skins. Taking one, the Ent poured its whole content into the Elf's mouth. Throat muscles came suddenly to life, swallowing the liquid without any help.

To Pippin's horror, Legolas started to shake and twitch uncontrollably. The body twisted and writhed uncontrollably, as if he had gone mad, in the Ent's hand. When the fit finally ceased the Ent turned to his companion, who he had named Quickbeem. The two talked quietly for a moment and, though he struggled vainly, Pippin could not catch a word spoken. Then, they turned to him and the first Ent spoke. "Your friend is very close to death. We may be able to recall him, but it might take some while, depending on his own will. We will take the two of you with us for the moment so that we waste no more time here.

He took hold of the hobbit around his middle and lifted him up into some of his higher branches then placed the Elf next to him. "Keep a hold on him, Peregrin, and don't let him fall. Make him drink all of this in the next hour to rid his body of the rest of the poison. He should live if you can. He is very lucky we found you when we did."

Pippin took the flask and with a yell from the Ent they set off. Many creatures were around them in an instant and again their voices started chanting. There were so many of them. All were obviously these Ent creatures, but they all looked very different from one another and he could see many different types: willow, birch, rowan and ones he couldn't put names too.

The ground shook with their footsteps and the air with their voices, only now Pippin was caught in the middle of it. Their song was very powerful and terrifying. He couldn't catch all the words, but those he did seemed to be focused around the destruction and complete annihilation of Isengard.

Hope rose in his heart. He had no idea what these creatures had against Isengard and its inhabitants, but he hardly cared. They seemed very capable of doing exactly what they sung of and maybe once he had seen to Legolas, and the Ents were done with their demolition, he could persuade them to help him rescue Merry.

He turned his attention to his friend and was struck by the change that had come over him. No sign of injury seemed to be upon him. The hole in his chest had mysteriously healed itself and even gashes that had littered the elf's face a minute ago had vanished. The rise and fall of his chest was still laboured and shallow, but it was an improvement from no movement at all.

Pippin glanced first at Legolas, then at the water bottle before immediately opening it and pouring a large portion of it into his friend's mouth. Again, it was accepted, though Legolas showed no signs of waking. Even his skin was now beginning to retain some the glow it used to have especially when in places like Lothlorien and Rivendale.

"Hold on, Merry," Pippin thought silently not even wanting to think of what his cousin might be suffering at that very moment. "I'm coming for you and when I get there, with this lot, Saruman will wish he had never heard of hobbits or rings. Please don't give in yet."