Meaning: In Shadows Lies Hope
Pairing: n/a
Type: AU; X-over; action/adventure; fantasy
Rating: PG
Note: ::Peeks around a corner anxiously, looking at the audience:: Uh ... hi. Remember me? The author of the LOTR/SM crossover entitled Lumbulëssë Caita Estel? You know, the story I was supposed to pick up nearly a year ago? ... Well, I'm finally getting back to it! Here's chapter five. Enjoy! This is going up in honor of Girl-chama-san, who has always encouraged me and provided much constructive criticism when I felt my stories were lacking in something.
Disclaimer: Anything owned by me will be duly noted. Until such a time, you may safely assume that everything belongs to someone else.
Warnings: Spoilers for The Two Towers. Usagi is NOT betrayed by any senshi. She does NOT realize "how the senshi really are", and will NEVER realize how wonderful they are. She does NOT dump Mamoru, and Mamoru does NOT dump her. She does NOT gain new powers. She does NOT go to another dimension. She does NOT run off into the Wild Blue Yonder with the Outer senshi. Come to think of it, she's not even in this. If you have a problem with this, then leave; otherwise your prerogative is furthermore inane.
Merry and Pippin followed after Súrë to the heart of Treebeard's home, and Pippin found to his annoyance that he had a nearly overwhelming desire to hold onto to the Elfling's hand. Instead he focused on his surroundings and forced himself not to think of the dark of the, well, he thought it might be a hallway, but he was not sure. At the far end of the rock-fall Pippin saw it was sheer but on closer inspection he saw that the bottom had been hollowed into a shallow bay with an arched roof; the only real roof in the hall. Though, if he were to be fair, one could call the branches overhead a sort of a roof; at the inner end of the hall they overshadowed the ground and left a large open path between them. A small stream escaped from the main waters above somewhere to trickle down the sheer face of the wall, pouring down in silver colored drops. The effect made the waters fall like a translucent curtain in front of the arched bay. The water gathered into a basin carved in the stone at the bottom between the trees and from there it was poured out to join the Entwash in its journey through the trees.
"Here we are," Súrë said quietly. She raised her voice, "Ho Treebeard!"
Merry and Pippin became aware of a tall, treelike figure standing under the rain from the streams above. One knobby hand raised in greeting creating an opening in the water so they would not get wet from it. The three passed through quickly and Treebeard followed, silently. The hobbits noted that when Treebeard walked his knees hardly bent, but his legs opened in a huge stride.
A great stone table stood in the bay, but there were no chairs. The back of the bay itself was quite dark. Treebeard lifted two huge vessles and stood them on the table which seemed to be filled with water, but when the Ent held his hands over them they began to glow; one a bright gold and the other a rich forest green. The blending of the two lights lit the bay, as if the summer sun was shining through the stone itself. Looking back the hobbits saw that all the leaves of the trees in the court had begun glowing as well in a variety of different colors, some a rich green, some copper coloured, some gold. Even the tree-trunks appeared as if made of some luminous stone, and neither Súrë nor Treebeard seemed surprised by this. Súrë did not seem surprised by the lack of seats either, for she had promptly swung herself onto the table and settled herself there.
"Súrë tells me she has brought you nearly seventy thousand entstrides to come here. What that translates to in your system of measurement I do not know. We are near the roots of the Last Mountain, and part of the name of this place might be Wellinghall in your language. I like it. We will stay here tonight. You must be thirsty and perhaps tired as well. Drink this!"
Treebeard went to the back of the bay and there the hobbits saw several tall stone jars with heavy lids. Súrë moved to the end of the table opposite the side where she had been sitting, and produced some preserved rabbit meat. Expertly setting a tiny fire on one corner, away from Treebeard, she began cooking the meat in a small stone bowl that was filled with water.
"I allow only her to set fire in my hall and only because she has lived here for many years," Treebeard said.
The hobbits nodded and watched the Ent lift the lid off one of the jars and pour a clear liquid from a ladle into four bowls. One was very big and the other three were smaller.
"This is an ent-house," Treebeard said suddenly, "and as such there are no seats I am afraid. You may sit with Súrë, if you like, on the table." Picking the hobbits up he set them on the stone slab, six feet above the ground. Súrë smiled warmly and them, adding something from a pouch on her belt to the stew that she was obviously making. It smelled wonderful to the hobbits; it smelled like something from home. They sat on the edge, dangling their legs, drinking the liquid Treebeard had provided them with in small sips and waiting for Súrë to finish her cooking.
The drink was very much like water, and indeed it tasted very near to the taste of the draughts they had taken from the Entwash, but there was some faint scent or flavor in it that they could not distinguish. Whatever it was, it was faint, and it reminded them of the smell of distant wood borne by a cool breeze at night. The effect of the drink was immediate and began at the toes, flowing steadily through every limb right up to the tips of their hair, bringing refreshment and vitality. Treebeard stood with his feet in the basin beyond the arch and drank his bowl in one long, slow draught, so slow that the hobbits thought he might never stop.
At last he did, just as Súrë finished her own cooking and gave each hobbit a bowl and wooden spoon, setting aside one for herself with the drink. Treebeard set his bowl down on the table again.
"Ah – ah" he sighed. "Hm, hoom, now we can talk easier. When you are finished, you can sit on the floor, and I will lie down. This will prevent the drink from rising to my head and putting me to sleep."
"They may sit on my bed, should they wish, Treebeard. They should not have to suffer the floor," Súrë said, smiling kindly at them over the rim of her stew bowl.
On the right side of the bay there was a large bed that stood on low legs; not more than two or so feet off the ground. It was covered in dried grass and leaves and it was on this that Treebeard lowered himself. With only the slightest bend of his middle, he lay at full length with his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, upon which the lights flickered. Súrë had her own bed very near to his that was pushed against the wall, which she leaned upon as she looked at Treebeard. Merry and Pippin sat on pillows of grass on either side of her and leaned close as if looking for comfort from her.
"Now tell me your tale, and do not hurry!" said Treebeard.
The hobbits began their story of adventures, with no second bidding, since they had left Hobbiton. They followed no particular order for they interrupted one another continually, and Treebeard often stopped the speaker to ask questions about an event that had happened either before or after the event they had been speaking of. They said nothing, however, about the Ring and did not tell their audience where they were going or why. Súrë and Treebeard, whatever their reasons, did not ask them to.
Treebeard was immensely interested in everything the hobbits told him: in the Black Riders, in the Mines of Moria, in Rivendell and Elrond, in Lothlórien and the Lady Galadriel. He made Merry and Pippin describe the Shire over and over again, and at one point asked a very peculiar question.
"You never see any, hm, Ents around there, do you?" he said. "Well, not really Ents, Entwives I should say."
"Entwives?" said Pippin. "Are they like you at all?"
"Yes, hm, well no: I do not know now," said Treebeard thoughtfully. "But they would like your country so I just wondered."
Súrë at that point bent her head and gave a very Man-like sigh. The hobbits glanced at her and then at each other, but neither thought it very appropriate to ask. At that time neither hobbit really noticed that her arms snaked around them as if they were children in need of protection. They wanted the comfort that the Elfling's touch provided them, for neither Pippin or Merry liked recounting their time with the Orcs.
Treebeard was extremely interested in everything that concerned Gandalf in any way; and most interested of all in any of Saruman's doings. The hobbits regretted very much that neither had much knowledge of them; just Sam's vague report of what Gandalf had told the Council. But they were clear that Uglúk and his troop came from Isengard and spoke of Saruman as their master.
"Hm, hoom!" said Treebeard, when at last their story had wandered to the battle between the Riders of Rohan and the Orcs. "Well, well! That is a bundle of news indeed and no mistake! You have not told me all, not by a long way, but I have no doubt that you are doing what Gandalf would have wished you to."
"There is something very big going on, Treebeard, that I can see," Súrë said quietly.
"Yes. And what it is we may find out in good time, or in bad time. By root and twig it is a strange business: up sprout a little folk that are not on the old lists and behold! The Nine forgotten Riders hunt them, and Gandalf sends them on a perilous journey, and the Lady Galadriel harbours them in Caras Galadon."
"And Orcs pursue them down the all leagues of the Wilderlands," the Elfling added. "And I make it my business to see that they are saved from the Orcs and thus save Aragorn son of Arathorn an early death from anxiety."
"Indeed they seem to be caught up in a great storm," agreed Treebeard. "I hope they weather it!"
"And what about yourselves?" asked Merry.
"Hoom, hm, I have not troubled about the Great Wars, though Súrë has," said Treebeard; "they concern mostly Men and Elves after all. That is the business of wizards whom are always worrying about the future. I do not like worrying about the future. I am not altogether on anybody's side, because nobody is altogether on my side, if you can understand me. It seems that nobody cares much for the woods as I care for them these days, not even Elves, with the exception of Súrë. Still, I take more kindly to Elves than to others; it was the Elves that cured us of dumbness long ago and that is a great gift that cannot be forgotten. There are some things, of course, whose side I am altogether not on. I am altogether against these – burárum - these Orcs and their masters.
"I used to be anxious when the shadow lay on Mirkwood, but when it was moved to Mordor I did not worry for a while: Mordor is a long way away from here. It seems to me that the wind is blowing East, and that the withering of all woods is drawing near. There is nothing an old Ent can do but hold back the storm: he must either weather it or crack."
"But Saruman now! Saruman is a neighbor, Treebeard. We cannot overlook him. You must do something, or let me," Súrë said.
"I have often wondered what to do about him lately," the Ent said slowly.
"Who is Saruman?" asked Pippin. "Do you know anything about his history?"
"Saruman is a wizard," answered Treebeard. "More than that I cannot say. I do not know the history of wizards. They appeared with the first Great Ships, but he gave up wandering and minding the affairs of Men and Elves some time ago - you would call it a long time ago, and settled in Angrenost, or Isengard. He was very quiet to begin with, but his fame began to grow and he was chosen to be the head of the White Council. It did not turn out too well, they say, and I wonder now if he was not turning to evil ways even then. He used to give no trouble to his neighbors; I used to talk to him. There was a time when he was always in my woods, but he was very polite in those days and he asked my leave every time (when he met me). I told him much that he would never have found out on his own, but he never repaid me in kind, and his face became more and more like a stone wall.
"I think that I understand what he is up to, now. He is planning to become a Power. He has a mind of metal and wheels and does not care for growing things other than what serves him at the time. And it is now clear that he is a black traitor, he has taken up with those foul things, with the Orcs. Brm, hoom! What is worse: he has done something to them, something dangerous."
"Yes. These new ones were more like wicked Men. They could endure the sun, even if they hate it, and it is a mark of evil things that came out of the Great Darkness that they cannot abide the sun," Súrë agreed gravely.
"I wonder what he has done," said Treebeard. "Are they Men he ruined? Or has he blended the races of Orcs and Men together? That would be a black evil!" He rumbled for a moment, as if he were pronouncing some Entish damnation. Súrë stayed quiet, but watched him with an almost fascinated look. "Some time ago I began to wonder how Orcs dared to pass through my woods so freely," he went on. "Only lately did I guess that Saruman was to blame, and that long ago he had been spying on me and learning my secrets!
"Curse him, root and branch! Many trees are simply cut down and left to rot -Orc-mischief, that, but most are hewn up to feed the fires at of Orcthanc. Yes, curse him! Many of those trees were my friends, who I knew from nut and acorn; many had voices of their own that are lost forever now. I have been idle, and I have let things slip. It must stop!"
Treebeard raised himself from his bed with a jerk, stood up, and thumped his hand on the table. The vessels of light trembled and sent up two jets of flame, and Súrë gasped quietly. There was a flicker like green fire in his eyes, and his beard stood stiff. "I will stop it!" he boomed.
"And you shall come with me!"
There was great wonder, and many doubtful glances among his men, when Éomer gave orders that the spare horses were to be lent to the strangers, but only Éothain dared to speak openly.
"It may be well enough for this lord of Gondor, as he claims to be," he said. "But who has heard of a horse of the Mark being given to a Dwarf?"
"No one," said Gimli, glaring slightly. "And do not trouble: no one will ever hear of it. I would sooner walk than sit on the back of any beast so great, free or begrudged."
Legolas found himself thanking immortality for the years it had given him to school his features into doing exactly as he wished. This ability had often kept him out of trouble as a young lad. Now despite the fact that he wished to laugh at the pointedly accusing tone Gimli's voice had taken on, he was able to keep a straight face and betray nothing of his thoughts.
"But you must ride now, or you will hinder us," said Aragorn, as ever the voice of reason.
"Come, you shall ride behind me, friend Gimli," said Legolas. "Then all will be well, and you need neither borrow nor be troubled by a horse."
A great, dark-grey horse was brought to Aragorn and he mounted it. "His name is Hasufel," said Éomer. "May he bear you well and to better fortune than his late master Garulf."
A smaller and lighter horse, but restive and fiery, was brought to Legolas. He was called Arod; but Legolas asked them to take off the saddle and reins. "I have no need of them," he said, and leaped lightly up. To their wonder Arod was willing and tame beneath him and moved here or there with only a spoken word: such was the elvish way with all good beasts. Gimli was lifted up behind his friend, and he clung to him, not much more at ease than Sam Gamgee in a boat.
"Farewell, and may you find what you seek!" cried Éomer. "Return as speedily as you may, and let our swords hereafter shine together!"
"I will come," said Aragorn. He raised a hand.
"And I will come, too," said Gimli. "There is still the matter of the Lady Galadriel between us. I have yet to teach you gentle speech."
"We shall see," said Éomer. "So many things have happened that to learn the praise of a fair lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's axe will seem no great wonder. Farewell!"
With that they parted. The horses of Rohan were very swift. When Gimli looked back after riding some ways off, the company of Éomer was already small and far away. Aragorn however did not look back: he was watching the trail as they sped along, bending low with his head by Hasufel's neck, looking for some sign of their Elfling guide. Before long they came to the borders of the Entwash, coming down from the East. Aragorn dismounted and surveyed the ground, then leaping back into the saddle, he rode away a short distance. He kept to one side and was careful not to ride over the footprints. Then he dismounted again and examined the ground on foot, moving backwards and forwards.
"There is little to discover," he said when he returned. "The main trail is all confused with the passage of the horsemen; their outward course must have lain nearer to the river. But this eastward trail is fresh and clear. There is no sign of any feet going the other way, back towards Anduin. Now we must ride slower, and make sure that no trace or footstep breaks off on either side. The Orcs must have been aware from this point that they were pursued; they may have made some attempt to get their captives away before they met either the Riders or Makoto."
As they rode forward the day was overcast. Low grey clouds came over the Wold and a mist shrouded the sun. The tree-clad slopes of Fangorn loomed ever nearer, slowly darkling as the sun went west. They saw no sign of any trail to the right or left, but here and there they passed single Orcs, fallen in their tracks as they ran, with grey-feathered arrows sticking in back or throat. Some had no mark at all, and Legolas thought that was Makoto's touch. They rode nearer to her home.
At last they came to the eaves of the forest as the afternoon was waning, and in an open glade among the first trees they found the place of the great burning: the ashes were still hot and smoking. Beside it was a great pile of helms and mail, bows and darts and other weapons of war. Upon a pole in the middle was set a large goblin head; upon its shattered helm the white badge could still be seen. Further away, not far from the river, there was a mound. It was new: the raw earth was covered with freshly cut turves and about it were fifteen spears.
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli searched far and wide about the field of battle, but the light faded and evening soon drew down, dim and misty. By nightfall they had discovered no trace of Merry, Pippin, or Makoto, and that was taking in good faith that she had them safely somewhere.
"We can do no more," said Gimli sadly. "We have been set many riddles since we came to Tol Brandir, but this is the hardest to unravel. If it were not for the Elfling I would guess that the burned bones of the hobbits are now mingled with the Orcs' ... Elrond was against their coming."
"But Gandalf was not," said Legolas. "And Makoto has given her word that they made it safely into her home, and that they will not come to harm here. We must keep our faith in her."
"But Gandalf chose to come himself, and he was the first to be lost," answered Gimli. "His foresight failed him."
"The counsel of Gandalf was not founded on foreknowledge of safety, for himself or for others," said Aragorn. "There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark. And I agree with Legolas; we must keep our faith in Makoto and with her words."
"I know not how much longer I can place my faith in the words of an Elfling wanderer," replied Gimli, a mite irate now. "Why do you not know of her, Legolas? She seems to have been living near as long as you, she must have been, to know your father."
"Not so, for the name of my father runs well known among other Elves," said Legolas. "She is lost from my memory, but her own father is not."
"No indeed," said Aragorn, quietly. His companions turned to look at him in mild surprise. At their expectant silence he continued: "I too, remember the name of Erufeilo. Elrond has spoken of him many times, sometime kindly, sometimes not." Here Aragorn paused to give a peculiar smile. "I believe Erufeilo was Elrond's brother or other close relation. He, like Elrond, was given the choice of immortality or mortality, and, like Elrond, he chose to live as an Elf. But that changed when suddenly he disappeared to an isle far to the East that no other Elf would go of their own accord, and was discovered to be living with a woman of royalty from there. They were married."
There was a short silence following Aragorn's tale. Legolas once again pondered to himself why it was that he could not remember Makoto. Surely with a father of lineage as his, she would be known to the Elves of Rivendell. But he had not once been mentioned, and she had received similar attention, during all his time in the Last Homely House. Gimli as well pondered, though he wondered why an Elf with apparently noble birth would hide from her own kind in the Fangorn forest.
"In any case we must wait for morning light," said Aragorn, breaking the silence suddenly. "It will do us no good to be weary to the point of exhaustion for our travels. We will continue to look for Makoto's home in the morning."
OTHER NOTES
Okay, so now you have a bit more background of Makoto, whose story has until now remained completely hidden. I may add more to the story as it goes along, but that will depend on how many people care about it. Now, for some warnings to prepare you for coming chapters: about twenty or so pages of the book is going to be skipped. We already know that Makoto has brought the hobbits safely to her home, and Aragorn and the others know this as well. Therefore, and you know what I'm talking about if you've read the book, there is no real need for them to have a long drawn-out search for the hobbits. This also means that the entire chapter of "The Uruk-Hai" will be skipped as well. Sorry if this disappoints anyone, but that's how it's going to happen.