Lomiothiel: OK. Here's another chapter!
Kelly Kragen: Yes, if Gandalf had gotten his hand on the staff, it would have been a very short chapter. Occasionally someone will wonder why one of Tolkien's eagles couldn't have carried the One Ring to Mount Doom and saved everyone a great deal of trouble. Well, that wouldn't have been very exciting, would it!?
Dragonfly: Oh, goody! Caught you by surprise! Mwahaha.
Grumpy: You mean Thranduil still has hair? He must be the only one!
Joee: Yes, both a tetanus and rabies shot would be a good idea. Also one for malaria, yellow fever, encephalitis, Lyme disease, and West Nile Virus. Basically every available immunization.
Chapter 32: A Return To Roots
As Gandalf struggled north through the dense forest, he was relieved to discover that he had been correct about his ankle: it was not broken, and the sprain was not in fact even as serious as he had first feared. It was painful and slowed him somewhat, but he was making what he considered to be good time. After awhile, the rain let up, and Gandalf hopped and limped onward in tolerably good spirits.
Meanwhile, back at the tower, his Orc captors had decided that they had better feed their prisoners, as they wanted to deliver them alive to their master. Bearing strips of dried meat and crusts of bread, they stomped up the stairs and flung open the door to the chamber. They gawked as they stared about the deserted chamber.
"They ain't here," said the stupider of the two Orcs.
"I kin see that," snarled his companion.
"They went out the window," the first Orc continued.
This unnecessary statement earned him a blow to his head.
"I kin see that, too, maggot-brain! Now come on! We gotter chase after 'em and catch'em, er it'll be our 'eads."
The Orc was, of course, speaking quite literally.
The two Orcs stomped back the stairs to rouse other Orcs for the hunt.
"Ain't no good searchin'" whined the first one they collared. "It's bin rainin' hard. Not even a warg'll be able to pick up the trail."
"It cain't rain fer ever," snarled the cleverer Orc, shaking the other by the tunic, 'collared', of course, also being literal.
"That don' signify nothin'," his victim snarled back. "Trail starts 'ere; trail's washed out 'ere."
"I've et' worms smarter'n ye," sneered the cleverer Orc. "The wizard'll 'ead north t'run t'the Elves wot live there. So we 'ead north. Stops rainin' by and by, the wargs'll pick up 'is trail."
In short order a large rabble of Orcs and wargs set out for the north. The goblins grumbled as they marched, but the cleverer Orc kept a whip handy with which to answer all objections. Faster and faster the Orcs scurried, trampling everything in their path.
Gandalf, although moving slowly, had not stopped to rest, and at length he judged that he was nearing Northern Mirkwood. "Ah," he sighed, "soon I'll be in southernmost portion of Thranduil's realm. No doubt there will be patrols thereabouts, and in a trice I will be mounted and riding in comfort to the Great Hall."
At that very moment howls arose from near at hand.
"Wargs!" exclaimed Gandalf. "Was there ever a wizard with worse luck!? Even with two good legs, I couldn't hope to outrun them. Well, up this tree I must go, although that likely won't keep them from smelling me out. There's nothing for it but to use my staff, even if by doing so I bring all the spiders and Orcs within hearing down upon me."
Gandalf pulled himself laboriously into the tree, and, although he feared that concealment would do no good, he did his best to stay out of sight. Shortly thereafter the wargs loped into view, making, Gandalf thought, straight for his hiding place. He got a good grip on his staff and ran over various spells in his mind.
As the wizard waited tensely in the tree, the lead warg suddenly came to a halt and broke afresh into howls. His fellows gathered around excitedly and joined in the fell chorus. Then, to the amazement and dismay of Gandalf, a bush midway between his hiding place and the wargs rustled, and out crept Gollum.
"The wretch has been following me," Gandalf thought despairingly, "and he will lead the wargs to me. No doubt the Orcs have promised that for his services he is no longer to be hunted."
The wargs growled at the sight of Gollum, and their hackles rose. Baring their yellow teeth, they began to slink in the creature's direction. Gollum held his ground, and before the wargs could reach him, their Orc masters arrived on the scene.
"Good fortune, boys!" yelled one. "It's the Squeaker! We'll get 'im back, anyway. Let's don' let the wargs savage 'im or he'll be worth naught to us."
As the Orc spoke, Gollum sprang into motion, scuttling at great speed back under cover. The Orcs yelled commands to the wargs in Black Speech, and, snouts to the ground, the wargs loped off in the direction that Gollum had taken, their masters at their heels. Behind them they left one very shaken but likewise very relieved wizard.
"So," mused the Istar, "Gollum was not after all in cahoots with the Orcs. He must have been following me for his own ends. No doubt he had hopes that he might catch me unawares and so murder me, for surely he must tire of Orc flesh. I'm certain I'd be tough and stringy, but I would like to fancy I'd taste better than an Orc! Well, well, lucky for me he harbored such a foul design, for he has managed to decoy the wargs and the Orcs away from me."
Carefully, Gandalf climbed down from his tree to resume his trek toward Northern Mirkwood. Meanwhile, Gollum was leading his pursuers on the proverbial merry chase. Slithering up trees and across branches, scuttling through clearings, from time to time he would pause as if deliberately waiting until the wargs had very nearly caught up with him. Then, as they were on the verge of reaching him, he would spring away again, having tantalized the beasts with the sight and smell of him. Since his trail thereby remained fresh, the wargs did not tire of the hunt.
He muttered to himself as he led the wargs and Orcs through the forest.
"Keeps its promise, it does, yesss, Precioussss. Unties the nasty ropeses, it does, Preciousssss."
Again and again the creature mumbled these broken phrases, seemingly fascinated at the idea that the wizard had kept his pledge to loose the bonds that had held Gollum. Hunched on a branch, waiting for the wargs to catch up again, he chanted the words over and over.
"Keeps its promise, it does, yesss, Precioussss. Unties the nasty ropeses, it does, Preciousssss."
Gollum kept up this dangerous game into the evening and throughout the entire night. In the morning, it was the Orcs, exhausted in their attempts to keep up with the wargs, who put a halt to the exercise. Footsore and tired, they grumbled their way back to Dol Guldur. At least they had the consolation of eating well when they reached the tower, for of course heads rolled (yes, literally, of course—how could it have been otherwise?). The boss ordered the prompt execution of the two Orcs who had captured Gollum and Gandalf but failed to keep their prisoners from giving them the slip, and the remaining Orcs eagerly dressed the bodies, although not for the purpose of any funeral rites, you may be sure! Thus the two Orcs served their cause well, even if not in the manner they had intended.
By this time, Gandalf had crossed the border into Northern Mirkwood and was making good progress toward the Great Hall. As he walked, he began to hear the sound of axes, faint at first, but growing louder with every step he took.
"Woodcutters," he thought to himself. "Hopefully elven."
He crept toward the sound as quietly as he was able. At last he came to one of the areas where many trees had been felled in the late dreadful storm. A party of Elves was cutting up and hauling away the trees under the supervision of an Elf whom the others addressed as 'Master carpenter'. This Elf was young for one of the Fair Folk, about the same age as Legolas, Gandalf thought to himself. Suddenly the young Elf addressed himself to the thicket in which the wizard was hiding.
"You had better come out of there. A partially felled tree leans precariously over that thicket, and it may come down at any time."
Gandalf glanced up and saw that above him there was indeed a tree teetering on the verge of falling. Hastily, he crawled out from his refuge. The Elf looked him over appraisingly.
"You are a wizard, are you not?"
"I am," replied Gandalf, pleased that even in his disheveled, not to mention half-naked, state, the Elf was still able to recognize him for what he was.
The Elf grinned.
"Then I am, of course, enchanted to meet you."
"Enchanted, eh?" replied Gandalf, smiling in return. Then he studied the Elf intently.
"You look somewhat familiar. Have I enchanted you before?"
"I do not believe so," the Elf replied. "I am Tathar."
"And I am Mithrandir."
"Mithrandir? I have heard of you. My pardon, but you do not look quite as I expected."
"Orcs," said Gandalf wryly, "have that effect upon one's person."
"You are injured, are you not?"
"A sore ankle, nothing worse."
"Nevertheless, you must take my horse."
The young Elf gave instructions to the woodcutters and then went to fetch his horse. When he returned, he offered Gandalf a cloak from his saddlebag, and Gandalf accepted it very gladly. Tathar helped him to mount the horse, and then, walking alongside, the Elf commenced to guide him to the Great Hall.
"Would you mind if we stopped briefly at a cottage," Tathar asked after a time. "It lies but a little way off our path, and I have an errand there in fulfillment of a promise I have made to a friend."
"Then by all means let us stop," exclaimed Gandalf. "I would not inconvenience you any more than I already have."
"A holiday from supervising a band of laborers is hardly an inconvenience," laughed Tathar. "There was little skill involved in standing about whilst already felled trees were hacked into manageable lengths. The designing and fashioning of furniture from the resulting lumber, now that is more to my liking. But, look, we are here."
They had entered a clearing in which stood a small cottage.
"I know this place," said Gandalf in surprise. "I have been here before."
"Have you?"
"Yes, about a millennia ago. Legolas spent the first few years of his life here, in company with Edwen Nana, who cared for him and one other, a little red-haired—oh ho!"
Gandalf broke off and gazed at Tathar.
"You are that very elfling, are you not?"
"I am!"
"Well, well, Middle Earth is a small world after all," smiled Gandalf.
With Tathar's aid, Gandalf dismounted the horse, and then Tathar lifted the door latch. Elf and wizard stepped inside. A thick layer of dust covered everything, for nothing had been disturbed since Edwen Nana had been summoned to the Great Hall to help in the aftermath of the battle for Dol Guldur. A tiny bow stood in the corner, and next to it stood an equally tiny quiver filled with arrows that, although small, were sharp. Tathar crossed over to these objects and picked them up.
"I have been asked to retrieve these and one other object."
The Elf went to the wardrobe, and, lifting aside tiny and neatly folded tunics and leggings, he drew forth a book. Opening it, he showed Gandalf the colorful pictures of animals and plants with their accompanying descriptions.
"Legolas learned to read from this book, and then he taught me."
"So it is Legolas who asked that you fetch these things."
"Yes. He was reflecting one day upon the years he spent in the clearing, and he spoke longingly of his little bow and his very first book. So I said I would go round to the cottage the very next time I was in this neck of the woods."
"Legolas was lucky in his beginnings," said Gandalf thoughtfully.
"Yes," agreed Tathar, "in an odd sort of way, I suppose he was. Although some would say that losing one's mother and being rejected by one's father would not, at first glance, seem to be fortunate events."
"Yet everything happened for a reason," Gandalf mused. "Legolas has learned the languages, developed the skills, and formed the friendships that will allow him to fulfill his mission here in Arda. If things had turned out otherwise, these things would not have come to pass."
"His mission?"
"Oh, do not ask me about that," said Gandalf briskly, "for I do not yet know what it shall be. I am only certain that, whatever it is, he has been preparing for it."
"As I divined earlier," smiled Tathar, "you are indeed a wizard! For only a wizard would speak so enigmatically."
"Hah! You have never met the Lady of Lothlórien. Do not speak of enigmas until you have spoken with her!"
With that the two turned and left the cottage. Neither was ever to return.