1Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. Whatever is left of the Woodland Wanderers by the end of this story is still sort of mine.

"Don't try to be a great man; just be a man and let history make its own selection."

–How do you spell that guy's name? Zephrem Cockryn? (Maybe)

Chapter Six

Counsels of the Istari

"Back so soon? That's an amazing improvement on the last time. And you didn't almost get yourself killed, either! Splendid!"

"Not funny, Radagast," Gandalf sighed. "I may have gotten someone else killed. We ran into some old friends I didn't recognize at first."

"Who?"

"Daëlin and his group–the Woodland Wanderers."

"They're involved in this? Do you think. . . . ?"

"I don't know what to think now that they're in on this. We Istari were sent her to protect Middle-Earth, not the Undiscovered Island."

"Maybe it's time that changed."

"Radagast, I know how you care about the island. . . ."

"As you do Middle-Earth. I can't help it. The people there are so . . . different."

"Not unlike yourself, old friend."

"Exactly. So what'd you do to them?"

"One of them, a girl named Morgan, insists I 'zapped' them."

Radagast couldn't hold back a laugh. "'Zapped,' huh? How old's this Morgan again?"

"No more than thirteen or fourteen: too young to be involved in this."

"That's what Elrond said of Pippin."

"Yes, and Pippin just got captured."

"That's not my point, Mithrandir, and you know it. I've seen Daëlin involve people far younger than her, and they've survived. This struggle isn't only for experienced warriors."

"Could've fooled me. They fought like experienced warriors."

"Really? Good. Were any of your group injured, though?"

"Ours? No. A few cuts and scrapes: nothing even half-serious. They were at a disadvantage. No armor, either. Are they always like this?"

"Always," Radagast laughed. "That's the Woodland Wanderers for you. You 'zapped' them, huh?"

"You're not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be. I know you have a lot of power now that you're Gandalf the White, but you don't have to show it all the time. You don't see me doing this every time someone asks who I am." With that, the Wizard turned himself into a robin, flapped his wings a few times, and then changed himself back.

Gandalf smiled, nodding his understanding. Following his fight with the Balrog, he'd been given power beyond that of even Saruman, and he was almost used to using it. Still, he always considered it a last resort. Last-resort situations, however, were becoming more and more common.

"I've never seen this before," Elrond sighed.

"Did I get him that bad?" Gimli asked.

"No, and that's the strange thing. Neither wound was bad, and Gandalf didn't hit him that hard, either. It must be something that happened before. As well as your axe, Master Dwarf, and your arrow, Legolas, he has a sword-wound in his right leg and an arrow-wound fairly close to his heart. Both were poisoned, if I know anything."

"Does he know?" Legolas asked.

"He does," admitted Eric, who, in spite of his own injuries, had insisted on checking up on his friend. "That's the reason it took us until this morning to get here. We were attacked."

"Orcs?"

"Nay, Legolas. Orcs don't use this kind of poison," Elrond said.

"Uruk-hai, then," Legolas suggested.

"I don't think so. Can you tell us, Eric, what attacked you?"

"Gleems."

"I was afraid of that."

"How bad is the poison?" Legolas asked.

"I'm not sure. I'm not familiar with it. It could be perfectly harmless, or it could be fatal."

"That's a big range."

"Doesn't get much bigger than that."

"Can we do anything to help?"

"Not all of what Daëlin's told me before has escaped my memory. Get Rona in here, if she wasn't hurt too badly. Together, we might be able to do something."

"No good," Pippin called down to Sam. "The window's still too high."

"There's nothing I can do about that," Sam grunted from the bottom of the pile. "Mister Frodo?"

"Nothing, Sam. Solid rock walls and a window taller than five Hobbits, much less four. A door locked from the outside with no handle, even, in here, made of who-knows-what. It looks hopeless."

"So did our Quest to destroy the Ring," Sam reminded him. "We did it, anyway."

"We had help."

"Yes, Mister Frodo, that we did. When we least expected it, too. Secret and unlooked for, Elrond said. Perhaps we'll find some now."

"Here? I don't see how," Merry said.

"Climb down," Frodo instructed. "This isn't going to work." Pippin climbed down from the top, and Merry after him. Frodo jumped down from Sam's shoulders. "We'll have to think of something better," he concluded.

"You think you know who it was?" Faramir asked Latano.

"We're pretty sure," the elf answered. "The gleems have been known to capture people for the strangest of reasons."

"So they're trying to take over your island?" Eowyn asked.

Latano nodded. "They may well be using the Hobbits as bait."

"Why? Why do they want us there?" Bergil asked.

"We don't know," Balo admitted. "They probably hope to persuade you to join them."

"That's not the best way to go about it," Aragorn observed.

"They don't know that, and neither does Confusion," Balo sighed. "We've seen this before."

"Who's Confusion?"

"Their leader," Morgan explained. "His name's actually Athos, but no one besides us calls him that."

"Athos, huh?"

"Yeah."

"How old are you, Morgan. You don't look much older than me."

"Three years older, Master Bergil, if Peter got your age right."

"You don't look it."

"I wouldn't know," Noka laughed.

"Cut the blind jokes, Noka," Tandro groaned. "They're not very good."

"I haven't seen you do any better."

Morgan just smiled Bergil was grinning. 'Here's hoping everyone else gets along as well,' Morgan thought.

"How's that, Daëlin?" Gandalf asked.

"I've felt worse."

"Peter, why do they keep calling you Daëlin?" Rona asked.

"I thought you said you were an Elf," Legolas said.

"I am an elf. What's that have to do with it?"

"It means you're supposed to speak Elvish."

"Daëlin is Elvish for Shadowsong," Peter explained. "I forgot to tell you that."

"Among other things," Rona sighed. "You know all these people?"

"Yes, though many of then wouldn't know me by sight."

"How bad is it, Rona," Eric asked, getting them back on track. They hadn't quite figured out everything, and, though Peter was awake, he was in a great deal of pain and they hadn't figured out what, if anything, they could do about it.

"It's pretty bad," Elrond answered for her. "It isn't fatal, but once the poison reaches his heart, it'll continue to weaken his muscles until he can't move at all. I don't know how long it will last."

"So you're saying . . . . ?" Eric prompted.

"That he'll be a liability on any long journey," Legolas interpreted. He knew Elrond would have taken twice as long to get to the point, and they had no time for that. Much as the Elf hated to break news like that to anyone, it had to be said by someone.

"He's also the only one who can get us where we need to go," Eric argued. Rona nodded.

"Would you stop talking as if I'm not here?" Peter asked. "Elrond, I know your concern. I assure you, the moment I slow down any progress is the moment I'll ask you to leave me behind. Trust me this time."

"That's just the point," Gandalf said. "The moment we'll do as you ask and leave you behind will be the moment we all lose our minds. Granted, we tried to kill your group this morning, but we're not going to drag you along with us as far as you can make it and then abandon you."

"What else do you suggest, Mithrandir?"

"I don't know what else to suggest."

"Follow his plan," Radagast said. Then, turning to Peter, "Daëlin, I know what you can do. If the time comes when you can't continue, I'll stay with you, as you did for me."

"Thank you, Radagast."

"My pleasure."

So it was that Radagast the Brown joined the ever-growing group. Intent on their plan, he and Daëlin would nevertheless stay with the search as long as they could.

Meanwhile, the Hobbits had just decided it would be easier to think on a full stomach. They'd had some food with them, but little was now left. A bit had been spilt, but most eaten.

Even Sam was beginning to think it couldn't get much worse. Then it did. The door to the dungeon was flung open and a man shoved it. The Hobbits rushed over, surprised. It was Eomer.

"You okay?" Merry asked.

"Could be worse," Eomer said, struggling for breath. "They didn't attack everyone–just me."

"Who else was with you?"

"No one, . . . . but the others . . . . back at Rivendell . . . . still safe. They're coming . . . . to rescue us . . . . as soon as they can."

"Do they know where we are?" Frodo asked.

"I don't even know where we are."

"Then how will they find us?" Pippin asked, confused.

"They will, my young Hobbits. They will."

Pippinsgal11011890–Glad you like it. Pippin and co. are in real trouble, huh? :)