Disclaimer: see chap. 1
Chapter 4: Reaching Oleron's Caves & Finding the Color Keys
Merry slowly opened his eyes to the sound of voices. He blinked away the strange, enchanting sleep and looked up. Trees loomed above him, and a cloud of smoke was wafting through the air. He rolled over and found Gandalf smoking his pipe calmly, as if nothing had happened. "Gandalf!" Merry exclaimed. "What's going on?"
Gandalf made no reply. "We need to get moving," was all that he said.
"Where?" Merry asked.
"Five leagues out of our way," Gandalf said. "Something else has arisen."
"What is it?"
"You will find out when I know."
Merry sat back. His head throbbed slightly. He shook it away and slowly stood up. He found that Pippin, Frodo, and Sam were all sitting a stone's throw away from Gandalf, talking quietly. Pippin suddenly turned around and saw Merry. His face broke into a huge grin and he threw himself at Merry. "It's about time you woke up!" Pippin exclaimed, holding his cousin in a deadlock. "Gandalf said you would wake soon about 2 hours ago, but then again he also said that apples could talk and I KNOW he's lying." He proceeded to squeeze Merry all the tighter.
Merry smiled and endured Pippin's babbling about absolutely nothing that somehow tied in with everything. He looked around camp and frowned. "What's wrong with everyone?" he asked with a puzzled look. The rest of the Fellowship was lying on the ground, all of them looking as if they were sleeping.
"Same thing that happened to all of us," Sam put in. "We all got knocked out."
"Why?"
"We don't have a clue," Frodo said. "Gandalf was the only one who knows."
"Yeah, and he won't tell us a single detail!" Pippin chimed.
Meanwhile, Gandalf was still sitting leaned against his tree, a frown on his face. The words that Rimor had spoken to him were disturbing, and he knew that he had to find Oleron. He needed the wizard's counsel and hoped that Saruman hadn't corrupted him as he'd tried with himself and Radagast. Gandalf sighed. Things were complicating themselves too quickly. He turned to the hobbits as a thought struck him. "Frodo, I need you and Merry to build a fire," he instructed. "Sam, you come here and help me make something." There was a slight twinkle in his eye. "It's time we woke the others."
* * * * * *
Frodo watched as Gandalf knelt next to Aragorn. The Ranger was still asleep, if it could be called sleep. Gandalf held a small cup of something he lovingly called The Concoction. From the way Gandalf chuckled when he said it and from the reek it had made when he and Sam were mixing it, Frodo could tell he wouldn't want to taste this. Gandalf supported Aragorn's head and gently opened his mouth. "Down it goes!" Gandalf said cheerfully as he poured it down Aragorn's throat. When the sleeping Ranger had closed his mouth, there was silence for about two seconds. He spasmodically jerked awake, coughing and spitting. All the while Gandalf was laughing heartily to himself and, still laughing, handed Aragorn a cup of water. "Good morning!" the wizard said. He patted Aragorn on the back as he was granted a most vile Look from the Ranger. "Now, don't look at me like that," Gandalf said indignantly. "It wasn't like I had any other choice." Still chuckling to himself, Gandalf turned to Gimli, humming cheerfully as he prepared another cup of The Concoction.
Still gagging slightly, Aragorn took a sip from his cup, shaking his head at the wizard. "I thought you had given up on that drink," he said.
"Oh no," Gandalf replied. "Been improving it for decades. See!"
At that moment, Gimli burst awake, roaring as his taste buds were insulted by the awful taste. Gandalf smiled at the enraged Dwarf and moved on to Boromir.
Frodo knelt next to Aragorn. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked quietly.
Aragorn paused for a moment. "I only remember standing in the clearing and seeing something fall out of the tree," he said. "Then.nothing."
Frodo sighed. "I want to know what dragged me away," he said. "I want to know if what happened was good or bad.or both. But the only one who knows is Gandalf."
"Gandalf will tell us in his own time," Aragorn said. "When we need to know."
Frodo smiled. "How bad is the." He gestured to the drink.
"You don't need to know."
* * * * * * Boromir sipped his water, still grimacing from the terrible taste shock he had received. He watched as Gandalf dumped out the rest of his.drink. Legolas had fortunately woken on his own, just as Gandalf was about to pour it down the Elf's throat. Needless to say, the wizard was disappointed. Boromir scowled. He was in a dark mood. He was a full-grown man, a fully trained warrior of Gondor who had just been taken down by a small blow dart. He wanted to know who had done this to him. Even though it had happened to all of them, Boromir's pride had suffered a blow. Now he just wished that they could move again and concentrate on the quest ahead.
"There has been a slight change to where we are going," Gandalf suddenly announced. The wizard was standing in the middle of everyone, holding his staff tightly. "A new situation has just risen to meet the others, and it needs my attention, as well as all of yours. I need to seek out Oleron the Blue. One of his.servants, shall we say, paid us a visit which none of you remember. Rimor is the name, I believe. He brought news of the goblins starting to unite under one of them, Dragas. I do not know what they plan to do but I fear it is for the worst." He took a deep breath. "We need to go five leagues north, into the mountains."
Silence filled the camp. "When do we leave?" Aragorn asked, breaking the silence.
"Right now."
* * * * * *
It was raining. Not surprisingly so, since the clouds had been growing overcast for the past day. The Fellowship had passed through the forest in silence, contemplating what the future would hold. They had never heard of Oleron the Blue, only Aragorn and Legolas hearing his name once or twice in passing. But this new creature, Rimor, was something completely unknown. Even when Gandalf had been pressed, he was hesitant in giving out information. The reason, he said, was because Rimor is mystery. He is shadow, and is trickiness.
Well, this shadow of mystery and trickiness was never mentioned after Gandalf revealed what he knew. But he was always there, always on the edge of their minds. As it was supposed to be, because Rimor had not finished all of his business with the travelers.
The Fellowship trekked on through the rain and mud. More than one of them was tired and hungry while all of them more than a little disgruntled. The sun was slowly setting through the trees, a dim glow of red and orange through the grey clouds. On the horizon a few stars were beginning to shine as the clouds slowly disappeared. The rain trickled to a slow halt just as they reached the foot of the Misty Mountains.
* * * * * *
Legolas drew back his hood as he saw the mountains rising before their path. They looked cold and dark, and loomed menacingly over them. How could anyone stand to live here? Legolas thought to himself.
Gandalf stopped walking. "We'll rest here for the night," he said. "Tomorrow we need speed."
Legolas threw his pack down to the ground, but did not set his bow with it. He felt.something. Something that was not right, if not evil. He shook his head, and sat down.
While he had been in his reverie, a small fire had already been made with supper cooking over it and watches had been drawn. Legolas joined in the group, half-heartedly making conversation as his mind was on the gloom of the path before them.
* * * * * *
Aragorn watched as the sun rose before him. Everyone was still sleeping. He was the last one on watch. The night had been peaceful. No nightmares disturbed the Fellowship, which was a relief. Aragorn had comforted more than one hobbit on more than one occasion from a dream of the Barrow-wights or Black Riders.
Aragorn turned to the sleeping Fellowship. Everything was so calm, so different from the danger that came with every day. Sighing, he reached down to shake Gandalf.
"Morning already?"
Aragorn started, then smiled. He should've known that Gandalf was awake. "Time to travel," Aragorn replied.
Gandalf started rummaging around in his pack, a strange smile on his face as he brought out a cup. Humming cheerfully, he turned but was stopped by a reproachful glance from Aragorn. Gandalf looked at the cup, sighed, then put it back. "Are you sure?" he asked with a hopeful look.
"Quite sure," Aragorn said sternly.
Sighing, Gandalf grabbed his staff and jabbed it at the nearest person. "Wake up," he said impatiently.
Aragorn had to hide a smile as the unfortunate victim of Gandalf's disappointment was prodded again forcefully. Poor Pippin always seemed to be subject to Gandalf's moods. The hobbit flailed about in his sleep as Gandalf poked him again. "Up!" he demanded. Pippin reluctantly opened his eyes. "Wake up everyone else," Gandalf said. He threatened him with the staff as Pippin slowly backed away.
"You are really turning into a grumpy old man," Aragorn laughed. "Just look at the poor hobbit."
"I have reason to be a grumpy old man," Gandalf replied. "If you had to put up with half of what I do, you'd be grumpy too."
"Speaking of which," Aragorn said softly. "What do you plan on doing when we reach Oleron?"
Gandalf sighed. "I'm not sure," he said. "But I do want the whole story from Oleron. Rimor was not telling me the whole truth. There is much more to this than it seems."
Pippin had finished rousing everyone else. Sam stood yawning by Bill as Frodo slowly stumbled towards his friend. Gimli was sitting on the ground, looking decidedly even grumpier than Gandalf was. Boromir also seemed to be in a sulky mood, as the Man leaned against a tree with a dark look on his face. Pippin was sitting with Merry, still watching Gandalf warily. The only one who seemed to be truly awake was Legolas, who was standing near the edge of camp. He seemed to be listening to something, his eyes tightly shut and his face worried. Suddenly, his body stiffened. Gandalf noticed this and frowned. Then he caught it. "Pack up everything quickly," he ordered. "The baelshre's on the move!"
Those words seemed to be the wake-up call needed. Everyone sprang into action, items being thrown into packs and packs tossed over shoulders and pony. Surprisingly, in less than three minutes everything was ready. Gandalf led the way, running fast. Aragorn followed him with the hobbits close behind, Sam dragging Bill behind him, Gimli running with the hobbits and Boromir and Legolas on rear guard. The trees ended abruptly in a straight line as grey hills of stone rolled into mountains. In the dim light of early morning they ran up the hills, over rocks and boulders and loose gravel. All was quiet, and it almost seemed as if they were running from nothing. But some distance behind them an eerie wail echoed from the forest.
"He's close!" Aragorn called.
"Too close," Gimli muttered, panting slightly.
"Don't worry, Master Dwarf," Gandalf said. "Oleron's caverns are not too far from us."
They traveled for two hours, swiftly running at times and then walking. The baelshre's cry had been the last they heard from it, leaving all tense and jumpy. Gandalf had been adamant about reaching the caverns before the middle of the day. Each time someone asked how close they were Gandalf replied, "Closer than we were two minutes ago."
And then, as abruptly as the mountains had started, they ended.
* * * * * *
Gimli walked on the edge of the cliff they had suddenly come to, panting slightly. Over the edge of the cliff lay a small valley, where in the middle a cave opening stood. Its great black mouth yawned at them, the rocks completely smooth. Gigantic, dark trees filled the valley, no underbrush seen anywhere. There was no way down into the valley except for a thin path cut out of the mountain wall. That path turned into the most faded and most obscure path that Gimli had ever seen which led through the valley forest.
He turned back to his companions. When they reached the edge of the valley, Gandalf had become very pleased and granted them a small rest. It didn't do much good, since most were still worrying about the threat of the pursuing baelshre. But since Gandalf didn't seem worried, it was a waste of energy. Gimli grunted as he walked over to the wizard. "Gandalf," he said gruffly, "what of the baelshre? Or have we suddenly become invincible?"
"There are protections here," Gandalf said. "The baelshre cannot follow us once we get inside the caves. Oleron is no foolhardy wizard. Every wizard's home is layered with guards, and I daresay the only reason we got this far was because Oleron has seen us coming."
Gandalf turned to the valley. "We will need every moment that is left in this day to reach Oleron. He has many tests in the air. Stay close and follow every movement I make." He started to lead them down the thin, narrow pathway into the wizard's valley.
The path was smooth and slippery and not at all easy to get a grip on. Pippin would've plunged down into the valley if Boromir had not grabbed the hobbit. Sam had to coax Bill to follow them down the dark, treacherous path. When they reached the valley floor, all was silent except for the quiet whistling of an unnaturally cold wind. Gandalf motioned for them to follow him as they started cautiously on the old path. Tall, dark willow trees towered over them, shadows flitting around the trunks and their sweeping branches. Almost no sunlight shone through the leaves, leaving it a faded twilight even though the sun was high in the sky. The wind slowly blew over them, icy fingers on their faces. Gandalf froze, and everyone did the same. The willows moaned in the breeze, their branches swaying. Gandalf started to slowly stir his staff in the air, murmuring words that no one could understand. The wind started to fade away gently, but the cold did not follow it. Gandalf started to walk on.
They walked for what seemed to be hours. The faded twilight slowly changed into darkness lit by numerous stars floating through the leaves. A thin mist was drifting lazily between the willows, sparkling in the starlight. No one had spoken since they entered the valley and they had not stopped for food or rest. But suddenly, Gandalf gestured for a halt.
Through the mist a dark shape could be seen. Gandalf hurried them towards the shape. It was the cave. The mouth stood as tall as at least six men. The only thing that could be seen in it was pitch darkness. Gandalf approached the mouth of the cave. He raised his staff and shouted more words that were nonsense. Silence greeted his call. But then, the tunnel was suddenly flooded with light. The glow rippled its way towards the entrance, sweeping the gloom away. The walls of the cave glittered with pale yellow and white floating lights over shimmering black walls. The dancing balls seemed to stretch down the hall forever, the only beacons on the pitch-black depths.
Gandalf carefully stepped into the cave, his boots softly clicking on the smoothed-down black rock that was the ground. "Watch your step," he warned. "Oleron knows of our coming, but do not be unprepared for any surprises." And with that he started to walk.
Frodo followed the rest of the Fellowship into the soft glow of the hall. He paused briefly, staring at the roof of the cave. It gently sloped upwards, gradually disappeared into the upper gloom, faint blue orbs barely showing a sign of a top. Even so, Frodo thought that he could see the far away stars that soared high above the cave. The air inside the cave was warm, completely opposite of the chilling freeze outside. It was eerily quiet, but a feeling of safety was present. Still, Frodo drew Sting slightly out of its sheath. There was no warning glow. Satisfied, Frodo turned his attention back to the cave walls. He stared at them, amazed.
"Does the hobbit like Master's glows?" a soft voice hissed.
Frodo whirled around, his hand going to Sting. He found himself face to face with the strangest creature he had ever seen. Amethyst eyes stared out of a grey darkness into his eyes, blinking. "Strider!" Frodo cried. He fumbled for Sting, but a long hand slapped his away.
"Silly hobbit, Rimor does not wish harm to you," the voice said, amused. "Only wishes to speak with Grey Gandalf."
"And so you shall, Rimor," another voice said. Gandalf stepped forward. He had just calmed Aragorn, talking him out of slicing the creature into a thousand pieces. "Speak."
Rimor slowly stepped out of the shadows and into the cave mouth. His dark green robes swished as he slithered past Frodo. He made his way slowly towards Gandalf, stopping in front of each member of the Fellowship and giving thoughtful, unnerving stares to them. Pippin and Merry had both flinched back at first from the grey creature who stood two feet taller than them, but then returned the stare with relish. Sam started to slowly grasp his cooking pan, prepared to whack Rimor halfway into Mordor. Gimli stood as tall as he could possibly make himself and stared Rimor right in the eyes. Boromir seemed slightly edgy when Rimor passed him. The creature grinned nastily to himself, and then saw Legolas. The Elf was fingering his bow dangerously, and Rimor seemed to take the hint. Then he looked at Aragorn, not with calculating glances but with curiosity. Aragorn did the same. And finally Rimor came to Gandalf.
"So sorry for wait," Rimor said softly. "Had to measure up company. See if they have what they need." He turned slightly to Boromir again and winked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Now, for real speaking." Rimor straightened up. "Master's guards are up, but by the moonrise will be down. Nothing will be safe in Master's hallway. Goblins come to storm, Dragas comes." He gnashed his teeth. "Company must reach Blue Master by moonrise."
"How long do we have until moonrise?" Gandalf asked, his brow furrowing.
"Until it comes," Rimor replied.
"Rimor." Gandalf warned.
"Fine fine fine," Rimor muttered. "One hour. Rimor cannot show you the way, oh no. But mayhaps he can give you keys to Master's shortcuts."
"What kind of keys?" Aragorn interjected before Gandalf could say anything.
Rimor grinned devilishly. "Keys that you cannot lose," he whispered. "Keys that you keep inside. Keys that no one can take from you. Keys that can be seen, but also be made unseen." He slyly placed his hand behind his back, and brought it back out. An orb with millions of colors and stars swirling around in it was floating above his palm. "What shall you be?"
Without warning, he threw the orb up at the roof. It sailed up into the depths, exploding somewhere high up. A rainbow of sparks came fluttering down, sprinkling the ground. All the lights went out on the walls, the only light the kaleidoscope of colors.
Legolas watched it carefully, his neck craned so he could see up into the roof. The explosion had faded somewhat, but somewhere up there something else was brewing. A sunrise of colors seeped down the walls, racing against each other. When it reached about halfway down, the colors leaped off of the cave walls and fell towards the Fellowship. Startled, and too absorbed to react, a color stream hit Legolas square in the chest. He slammed into the ground, hitting his head. Right next to him he heard another thump. Aragorn had been struck down by a color stream and was lying on the ground. Legolas watched, dazed, as the color ran across the Ranger's chest in a whirlpool, centering over his heart. The color chased itself around and around, till it seemed to be disappearing into Aragorn's chest. Sam was running around the halls, shouting as he tried to outrun a color stream. But in the end it hit him and he landed on his back like everyone else. Legolas tried to sit up, only to feel a strange rush to his head. He looked down and saw he had his own whirlpool of colors. He felt unusually warm. A strange sensation shivered down from his head to his feet, tickling him. Then, Legolas felt a blast of intense pressure on his chest. He struggled to breathe as his lungs felt like they were being crushed. Green and blue spots danced in front of his eyes and then his vision exploded into darkness.
* * * * * *
Something pounded on the rock. An annoying sound that hurt and grated his ear drums. The sound was slowly transferring the pounding to inside his head, making it feel as if he had been beaten, dragged by a horse, dropped from a cliff, and then drank one too many and given the worst hangover in the history of Middle Earth. Boromir groaned and swatted at whatever was making that noise, to try and make it stop. His hands met nothing but air. Grimacing, he opened his eyes, and then shut them instantly as a flash of hot colors burst in front of him. "What the devil did you do to us, Rimor?" Boromir growled. There was no answer except for the soft scraping noise, and a mischievous giggle. Boromir growled, and then gritted his teeth. The pounding on his head had gotten no better and he doubted that it would. Sighing, he steeled himself and opened his eyes again. This time he was not blinded, but a strange sight greeted his sore eyes.
Everyone was on the ground. Well, that was nothing new. It seemed to be happening all the time. But it was the manner on which everyone was on the ground. They were on their backs in a strange semicircle, seeing as how they had all fallen in different parts of the hall. Over each person's heart glowed and pulsed a color. Gimli had red, Pippin had orange, Merry had brown, Frodo had yellow, Sam (oddly enough) had pink, Legolas had green, Aragorn had purple, and Gandalf had white. Boromir looked down at his own chest and saw a glowing circle of.black? A chill ran down his spine. He had always been taught that black was a symbol of evil. He glanced at it again, and saw it slowly swirl and change to red. He looked at Legolas'. The Elf's was slowly fading into blue. In fact, everyone's was changing color. Maybe the colors didn't mean anything. Maybe they were just random colors. But still, Boromir couldn't shake the strange feeling he received from that black circle.
"Wake your friends," hissed a voice. "Moonrise is coming." Rimor moved into the light. His raven black hair fell over his face, hiding some expression that Boromir couldn't make out.
When Boromir made no move to wake anyone, Rimor hissed and slid with lightning speed towards the warrior. "Wake them!" he growled. "Rimor will not be made responsible for your failure." With that, the creature started to move into the dark again. He called to Boromir, "Use Color Keys wisely and quickly. Only till moonrise, then it is only mayhaps whether you reach Master."
"Wait!" Boromir called. "How do we use these.Color Keys?"
Rimor glanced over his shoulder. "Only use the right color on the right door," he whispered. "And then you will know. You better know, Gondor Man." Rimor hissed at him, and jumped up the wall to slither away into the unknown, leaving Boromir to wake his comrades and begin their journey.
Chapter 4: Reaching Oleron's Caves & Finding the Color Keys
Merry slowly opened his eyes to the sound of voices. He blinked away the strange, enchanting sleep and looked up. Trees loomed above him, and a cloud of smoke was wafting through the air. He rolled over and found Gandalf smoking his pipe calmly, as if nothing had happened. "Gandalf!" Merry exclaimed. "What's going on?"
Gandalf made no reply. "We need to get moving," was all that he said.
"Where?" Merry asked.
"Five leagues out of our way," Gandalf said. "Something else has arisen."
"What is it?"
"You will find out when I know."
Merry sat back. His head throbbed slightly. He shook it away and slowly stood up. He found that Pippin, Frodo, and Sam were all sitting a stone's throw away from Gandalf, talking quietly. Pippin suddenly turned around and saw Merry. His face broke into a huge grin and he threw himself at Merry. "It's about time you woke up!" Pippin exclaimed, holding his cousin in a deadlock. "Gandalf said you would wake soon about 2 hours ago, but then again he also said that apples could talk and I KNOW he's lying." He proceeded to squeeze Merry all the tighter.
Merry smiled and endured Pippin's babbling about absolutely nothing that somehow tied in with everything. He looked around camp and frowned. "What's wrong with everyone?" he asked with a puzzled look. The rest of the Fellowship was lying on the ground, all of them looking as if they were sleeping.
"Same thing that happened to all of us," Sam put in. "We all got knocked out."
"Why?"
"We don't have a clue," Frodo said. "Gandalf was the only one who knows."
"Yeah, and he won't tell us a single detail!" Pippin chimed.
Meanwhile, Gandalf was still sitting leaned against his tree, a frown on his face. The words that Rimor had spoken to him were disturbing, and he knew that he had to find Oleron. He needed the wizard's counsel and hoped that Saruman hadn't corrupted him as he'd tried with himself and Radagast. Gandalf sighed. Things were complicating themselves too quickly. He turned to the hobbits as a thought struck him. "Frodo, I need you and Merry to build a fire," he instructed. "Sam, you come here and help me make something." There was a slight twinkle in his eye. "It's time we woke the others."
* * * * * *
Frodo watched as Gandalf knelt next to Aragorn. The Ranger was still asleep, if it could be called sleep. Gandalf held a small cup of something he lovingly called The Concoction. From the way Gandalf chuckled when he said it and from the reek it had made when he and Sam were mixing it, Frodo could tell he wouldn't want to taste this. Gandalf supported Aragorn's head and gently opened his mouth. "Down it goes!" Gandalf said cheerfully as he poured it down Aragorn's throat. When the sleeping Ranger had closed his mouth, there was silence for about two seconds. He spasmodically jerked awake, coughing and spitting. All the while Gandalf was laughing heartily to himself and, still laughing, handed Aragorn a cup of water. "Good morning!" the wizard said. He patted Aragorn on the back as he was granted a most vile Look from the Ranger. "Now, don't look at me like that," Gandalf said indignantly. "It wasn't like I had any other choice." Still chuckling to himself, Gandalf turned to Gimli, humming cheerfully as he prepared another cup of The Concoction.
Still gagging slightly, Aragorn took a sip from his cup, shaking his head at the wizard. "I thought you had given up on that drink," he said.
"Oh no," Gandalf replied. "Been improving it for decades. See!"
At that moment, Gimli burst awake, roaring as his taste buds were insulted by the awful taste. Gandalf smiled at the enraged Dwarf and moved on to Boromir.
Frodo knelt next to Aragorn. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked quietly.
Aragorn paused for a moment. "I only remember standing in the clearing and seeing something fall out of the tree," he said. "Then.nothing."
Frodo sighed. "I want to know what dragged me away," he said. "I want to know if what happened was good or bad.or both. But the only one who knows is Gandalf."
"Gandalf will tell us in his own time," Aragorn said. "When we need to know."
Frodo smiled. "How bad is the." He gestured to the drink.
"You don't need to know."
* * * * * * Boromir sipped his water, still grimacing from the terrible taste shock he had received. He watched as Gandalf dumped out the rest of his.drink. Legolas had fortunately woken on his own, just as Gandalf was about to pour it down the Elf's throat. Needless to say, the wizard was disappointed. Boromir scowled. He was in a dark mood. He was a full-grown man, a fully trained warrior of Gondor who had just been taken down by a small blow dart. He wanted to know who had done this to him. Even though it had happened to all of them, Boromir's pride had suffered a blow. Now he just wished that they could move again and concentrate on the quest ahead.
"There has been a slight change to where we are going," Gandalf suddenly announced. The wizard was standing in the middle of everyone, holding his staff tightly. "A new situation has just risen to meet the others, and it needs my attention, as well as all of yours. I need to seek out Oleron the Blue. One of his.servants, shall we say, paid us a visit which none of you remember. Rimor is the name, I believe. He brought news of the goblins starting to unite under one of them, Dragas. I do not know what they plan to do but I fear it is for the worst." He took a deep breath. "We need to go five leagues north, into the mountains."
Silence filled the camp. "When do we leave?" Aragorn asked, breaking the silence.
"Right now."
* * * * * *
It was raining. Not surprisingly so, since the clouds had been growing overcast for the past day. The Fellowship had passed through the forest in silence, contemplating what the future would hold. They had never heard of Oleron the Blue, only Aragorn and Legolas hearing his name once or twice in passing. But this new creature, Rimor, was something completely unknown. Even when Gandalf had been pressed, he was hesitant in giving out information. The reason, he said, was because Rimor is mystery. He is shadow, and is trickiness.
Well, this shadow of mystery and trickiness was never mentioned after Gandalf revealed what he knew. But he was always there, always on the edge of their minds. As it was supposed to be, because Rimor had not finished all of his business with the travelers.
The Fellowship trekked on through the rain and mud. More than one of them was tired and hungry while all of them more than a little disgruntled. The sun was slowly setting through the trees, a dim glow of red and orange through the grey clouds. On the horizon a few stars were beginning to shine as the clouds slowly disappeared. The rain trickled to a slow halt just as they reached the foot of the Misty Mountains.
* * * * * *
Legolas drew back his hood as he saw the mountains rising before their path. They looked cold and dark, and loomed menacingly over them. How could anyone stand to live here? Legolas thought to himself.
Gandalf stopped walking. "We'll rest here for the night," he said. "Tomorrow we need speed."
Legolas threw his pack down to the ground, but did not set his bow with it. He felt.something. Something that was not right, if not evil. He shook his head, and sat down.
While he had been in his reverie, a small fire had already been made with supper cooking over it and watches had been drawn. Legolas joined in the group, half-heartedly making conversation as his mind was on the gloom of the path before them.
* * * * * *
Aragorn watched as the sun rose before him. Everyone was still sleeping. He was the last one on watch. The night had been peaceful. No nightmares disturbed the Fellowship, which was a relief. Aragorn had comforted more than one hobbit on more than one occasion from a dream of the Barrow-wights or Black Riders.
Aragorn turned to the sleeping Fellowship. Everything was so calm, so different from the danger that came with every day. Sighing, he reached down to shake Gandalf.
"Morning already?"
Aragorn started, then smiled. He should've known that Gandalf was awake. "Time to travel," Aragorn replied.
Gandalf started rummaging around in his pack, a strange smile on his face as he brought out a cup. Humming cheerfully, he turned but was stopped by a reproachful glance from Aragorn. Gandalf looked at the cup, sighed, then put it back. "Are you sure?" he asked with a hopeful look.
"Quite sure," Aragorn said sternly.
Sighing, Gandalf grabbed his staff and jabbed it at the nearest person. "Wake up," he said impatiently.
Aragorn had to hide a smile as the unfortunate victim of Gandalf's disappointment was prodded again forcefully. Poor Pippin always seemed to be subject to Gandalf's moods. The hobbit flailed about in his sleep as Gandalf poked him again. "Up!" he demanded. Pippin reluctantly opened his eyes. "Wake up everyone else," Gandalf said. He threatened him with the staff as Pippin slowly backed away.
"You are really turning into a grumpy old man," Aragorn laughed. "Just look at the poor hobbit."
"I have reason to be a grumpy old man," Gandalf replied. "If you had to put up with half of what I do, you'd be grumpy too."
"Speaking of which," Aragorn said softly. "What do you plan on doing when we reach Oleron?"
Gandalf sighed. "I'm not sure," he said. "But I do want the whole story from Oleron. Rimor was not telling me the whole truth. There is much more to this than it seems."
Pippin had finished rousing everyone else. Sam stood yawning by Bill as Frodo slowly stumbled towards his friend. Gimli was sitting on the ground, looking decidedly even grumpier than Gandalf was. Boromir also seemed to be in a sulky mood, as the Man leaned against a tree with a dark look on his face. Pippin was sitting with Merry, still watching Gandalf warily. The only one who seemed to be truly awake was Legolas, who was standing near the edge of camp. He seemed to be listening to something, his eyes tightly shut and his face worried. Suddenly, his body stiffened. Gandalf noticed this and frowned. Then he caught it. "Pack up everything quickly," he ordered. "The baelshre's on the move!"
Those words seemed to be the wake-up call needed. Everyone sprang into action, items being thrown into packs and packs tossed over shoulders and pony. Surprisingly, in less than three minutes everything was ready. Gandalf led the way, running fast. Aragorn followed him with the hobbits close behind, Sam dragging Bill behind him, Gimli running with the hobbits and Boromir and Legolas on rear guard. The trees ended abruptly in a straight line as grey hills of stone rolled into mountains. In the dim light of early morning they ran up the hills, over rocks and boulders and loose gravel. All was quiet, and it almost seemed as if they were running from nothing. But some distance behind them an eerie wail echoed from the forest.
"He's close!" Aragorn called.
"Too close," Gimli muttered, panting slightly.
"Don't worry, Master Dwarf," Gandalf said. "Oleron's caverns are not too far from us."
They traveled for two hours, swiftly running at times and then walking. The baelshre's cry had been the last they heard from it, leaving all tense and jumpy. Gandalf had been adamant about reaching the caverns before the middle of the day. Each time someone asked how close they were Gandalf replied, "Closer than we were two minutes ago."
And then, as abruptly as the mountains had started, they ended.
* * * * * *
Gimli walked on the edge of the cliff they had suddenly come to, panting slightly. Over the edge of the cliff lay a small valley, where in the middle a cave opening stood. Its great black mouth yawned at them, the rocks completely smooth. Gigantic, dark trees filled the valley, no underbrush seen anywhere. There was no way down into the valley except for a thin path cut out of the mountain wall. That path turned into the most faded and most obscure path that Gimli had ever seen which led through the valley forest.
He turned back to his companions. When they reached the edge of the valley, Gandalf had become very pleased and granted them a small rest. It didn't do much good, since most were still worrying about the threat of the pursuing baelshre. But since Gandalf didn't seem worried, it was a waste of energy. Gimli grunted as he walked over to the wizard. "Gandalf," he said gruffly, "what of the baelshre? Or have we suddenly become invincible?"
"There are protections here," Gandalf said. "The baelshre cannot follow us once we get inside the caves. Oleron is no foolhardy wizard. Every wizard's home is layered with guards, and I daresay the only reason we got this far was because Oleron has seen us coming."
Gandalf turned to the valley. "We will need every moment that is left in this day to reach Oleron. He has many tests in the air. Stay close and follow every movement I make." He started to lead them down the thin, narrow pathway into the wizard's valley.
The path was smooth and slippery and not at all easy to get a grip on. Pippin would've plunged down into the valley if Boromir had not grabbed the hobbit. Sam had to coax Bill to follow them down the dark, treacherous path. When they reached the valley floor, all was silent except for the quiet whistling of an unnaturally cold wind. Gandalf motioned for them to follow him as they started cautiously on the old path. Tall, dark willow trees towered over them, shadows flitting around the trunks and their sweeping branches. Almost no sunlight shone through the leaves, leaving it a faded twilight even though the sun was high in the sky. The wind slowly blew over them, icy fingers on their faces. Gandalf froze, and everyone did the same. The willows moaned in the breeze, their branches swaying. Gandalf started to slowly stir his staff in the air, murmuring words that no one could understand. The wind started to fade away gently, but the cold did not follow it. Gandalf started to walk on.
They walked for what seemed to be hours. The faded twilight slowly changed into darkness lit by numerous stars floating through the leaves. A thin mist was drifting lazily between the willows, sparkling in the starlight. No one had spoken since they entered the valley and they had not stopped for food or rest. But suddenly, Gandalf gestured for a halt.
Through the mist a dark shape could be seen. Gandalf hurried them towards the shape. It was the cave. The mouth stood as tall as at least six men. The only thing that could be seen in it was pitch darkness. Gandalf approached the mouth of the cave. He raised his staff and shouted more words that were nonsense. Silence greeted his call. But then, the tunnel was suddenly flooded with light. The glow rippled its way towards the entrance, sweeping the gloom away. The walls of the cave glittered with pale yellow and white floating lights over shimmering black walls. The dancing balls seemed to stretch down the hall forever, the only beacons on the pitch-black depths.
Gandalf carefully stepped into the cave, his boots softly clicking on the smoothed-down black rock that was the ground. "Watch your step," he warned. "Oleron knows of our coming, but do not be unprepared for any surprises." And with that he started to walk.
Frodo followed the rest of the Fellowship into the soft glow of the hall. He paused briefly, staring at the roof of the cave. It gently sloped upwards, gradually disappeared into the upper gloom, faint blue orbs barely showing a sign of a top. Even so, Frodo thought that he could see the far away stars that soared high above the cave. The air inside the cave was warm, completely opposite of the chilling freeze outside. It was eerily quiet, but a feeling of safety was present. Still, Frodo drew Sting slightly out of its sheath. There was no warning glow. Satisfied, Frodo turned his attention back to the cave walls. He stared at them, amazed.
"Does the hobbit like Master's glows?" a soft voice hissed.
Frodo whirled around, his hand going to Sting. He found himself face to face with the strangest creature he had ever seen. Amethyst eyes stared out of a grey darkness into his eyes, blinking. "Strider!" Frodo cried. He fumbled for Sting, but a long hand slapped his away.
"Silly hobbit, Rimor does not wish harm to you," the voice said, amused. "Only wishes to speak with Grey Gandalf."
"And so you shall, Rimor," another voice said. Gandalf stepped forward. He had just calmed Aragorn, talking him out of slicing the creature into a thousand pieces. "Speak."
Rimor slowly stepped out of the shadows and into the cave mouth. His dark green robes swished as he slithered past Frodo. He made his way slowly towards Gandalf, stopping in front of each member of the Fellowship and giving thoughtful, unnerving stares to them. Pippin and Merry had both flinched back at first from the grey creature who stood two feet taller than them, but then returned the stare with relish. Sam started to slowly grasp his cooking pan, prepared to whack Rimor halfway into Mordor. Gimli stood as tall as he could possibly make himself and stared Rimor right in the eyes. Boromir seemed slightly edgy when Rimor passed him. The creature grinned nastily to himself, and then saw Legolas. The Elf was fingering his bow dangerously, and Rimor seemed to take the hint. Then he looked at Aragorn, not with calculating glances but with curiosity. Aragorn did the same. And finally Rimor came to Gandalf.
"So sorry for wait," Rimor said softly. "Had to measure up company. See if they have what they need." He turned slightly to Boromir again and winked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Now, for real speaking." Rimor straightened up. "Master's guards are up, but by the moonrise will be down. Nothing will be safe in Master's hallway. Goblins come to storm, Dragas comes." He gnashed his teeth. "Company must reach Blue Master by moonrise."
"How long do we have until moonrise?" Gandalf asked, his brow furrowing.
"Until it comes," Rimor replied.
"Rimor." Gandalf warned.
"Fine fine fine," Rimor muttered. "One hour. Rimor cannot show you the way, oh no. But mayhaps he can give you keys to Master's shortcuts."
"What kind of keys?" Aragorn interjected before Gandalf could say anything.
Rimor grinned devilishly. "Keys that you cannot lose," he whispered. "Keys that you keep inside. Keys that no one can take from you. Keys that can be seen, but also be made unseen." He slyly placed his hand behind his back, and brought it back out. An orb with millions of colors and stars swirling around in it was floating above his palm. "What shall you be?"
Without warning, he threw the orb up at the roof. It sailed up into the depths, exploding somewhere high up. A rainbow of sparks came fluttering down, sprinkling the ground. All the lights went out on the walls, the only light the kaleidoscope of colors.
Legolas watched it carefully, his neck craned so he could see up into the roof. The explosion had faded somewhat, but somewhere up there something else was brewing. A sunrise of colors seeped down the walls, racing against each other. When it reached about halfway down, the colors leaped off of the cave walls and fell towards the Fellowship. Startled, and too absorbed to react, a color stream hit Legolas square in the chest. He slammed into the ground, hitting his head. Right next to him he heard another thump. Aragorn had been struck down by a color stream and was lying on the ground. Legolas watched, dazed, as the color ran across the Ranger's chest in a whirlpool, centering over his heart. The color chased itself around and around, till it seemed to be disappearing into Aragorn's chest. Sam was running around the halls, shouting as he tried to outrun a color stream. But in the end it hit him and he landed on his back like everyone else. Legolas tried to sit up, only to feel a strange rush to his head. He looked down and saw he had his own whirlpool of colors. He felt unusually warm. A strange sensation shivered down from his head to his feet, tickling him. Then, Legolas felt a blast of intense pressure on his chest. He struggled to breathe as his lungs felt like they were being crushed. Green and blue spots danced in front of his eyes and then his vision exploded into darkness.
* * * * * *
Something pounded on the rock. An annoying sound that hurt and grated his ear drums. The sound was slowly transferring the pounding to inside his head, making it feel as if he had been beaten, dragged by a horse, dropped from a cliff, and then drank one too many and given the worst hangover in the history of Middle Earth. Boromir groaned and swatted at whatever was making that noise, to try and make it stop. His hands met nothing but air. Grimacing, he opened his eyes, and then shut them instantly as a flash of hot colors burst in front of him. "What the devil did you do to us, Rimor?" Boromir growled. There was no answer except for the soft scraping noise, and a mischievous giggle. Boromir growled, and then gritted his teeth. The pounding on his head had gotten no better and he doubted that it would. Sighing, he steeled himself and opened his eyes again. This time he was not blinded, but a strange sight greeted his sore eyes.
Everyone was on the ground. Well, that was nothing new. It seemed to be happening all the time. But it was the manner on which everyone was on the ground. They were on their backs in a strange semicircle, seeing as how they had all fallen in different parts of the hall. Over each person's heart glowed and pulsed a color. Gimli had red, Pippin had orange, Merry had brown, Frodo had yellow, Sam (oddly enough) had pink, Legolas had green, Aragorn had purple, and Gandalf had white. Boromir looked down at his own chest and saw a glowing circle of.black? A chill ran down his spine. He had always been taught that black was a symbol of evil. He glanced at it again, and saw it slowly swirl and change to red. He looked at Legolas'. The Elf's was slowly fading into blue. In fact, everyone's was changing color. Maybe the colors didn't mean anything. Maybe they were just random colors. But still, Boromir couldn't shake the strange feeling he received from that black circle.
"Wake your friends," hissed a voice. "Moonrise is coming." Rimor moved into the light. His raven black hair fell over his face, hiding some expression that Boromir couldn't make out.
When Boromir made no move to wake anyone, Rimor hissed and slid with lightning speed towards the warrior. "Wake them!" he growled. "Rimor will not be made responsible for your failure." With that, the creature started to move into the dark again. He called to Boromir, "Use Color Keys wisely and quickly. Only till moonrise, then it is only mayhaps whether you reach Master."
"Wait!" Boromir called. "How do we use these.Color Keys?"
Rimor glanced over his shoulder. "Only use the right color on the right door," he whispered. "And then you will know. You better know, Gondor Man." Rimor hissed at him, and jumped up the wall to slither away into the unknown, leaving Boromir to wake his comrades and begin their journey.