Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine.
The result of this deception
Is very strange to tell,
For when I fool the people I fear,
I fool myself as well."
–Anna, The King and I
Chapter Fifteen
That's a Plan?!?
Climbing hand over hand, hanging on as only an Elf could, Legolas made his way up the rope and onto the gleem's back. Avanwë relaxed her grip on Rainbow's mane. Even the horse seemed to sigh with relief.
Then, several things happened. First, a few gleems looked up and realized there was an Elf up there. Radagast heard Legolas shout and he let out a low whistle. They'd need help if the Elf was going to somehow survive. Avanwë, not knowing how badly her friend was hurt, but fearing the worst, let go all of her restraints, every last warning, threat, and caution keeping her power at bay. None of that mattered when a friend's life was in danger. There was a brilliant flash of lightning though the sky was as clear as glass. Legolas closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain conscious, focusing on clinging to the winged monster, blocking out the pain in his head from the creature's shrieks at the light that still hadn't faded, forgetting the pain close to his heart. The gleem's arrow had been well-aimed.
Then, suddenly, without any form of warning even a half-second before, everything went black. Avanwë, the only one who had heard Radagast's quiet whistle, knew what the Wizard had done. The darkness was not of her own doing, nor of his, but of a power on the island that Radagast the Brown was for some reason able to summon to their aid. For this darkness was not darkness so much as a living envelope. Now, for the first time since anyone could remember, the Nightwatchers' full strength was let loose over the whole island.
All across the island, the gleems panicked. Suddenly, though, Legolas heard a high, shrill sound, like a whistle, pierce all the clamor and ruckus that had gathered around them. The whistle didn't stop, and the gleem he was riding immediately calmed and flew straight and sure in the direction from which the sound came. Legolas didn't let go. He didn't know how high up he was, but letting go would mean death, even for him.
"Radagast! Where's Legolas? I can't see!" Avanwë called.
"I have no idea!" the Wizard called back. "I can't see, either!"
"Radagast, what did you do?"
"What I had to do to keep our friend alive. Same as you."
"You know we're not supposed to . . ."
"Avanwë, some things are more important than rules. You know this; you let your power loose, too."
"All right, you crazy Wizard! You did this to save Legolas, but now we can't even find him, much less get him away from the gleems. I know that whistle. Athos has sense enough to carry it with him. Gleems around the whole island heard it, including the one he was on. So whatever you told the Nightwatchers to do, tell them to stop it before the gleems reach the tower."
Radagast whistled again, on a slightly higher note. Within seconds, everyone's sight was back, but it was to no avail. The gleems were gone.
"Radagast, what have you done?" Gandalf whispered quietly.
"What was that?" Elrond asked. "I mean besides and earthquake and a windstorm."
"We have to get out of the west side of the forest. A burst of energy like that from the Nightwatchers, a sudden anger with the power to shake the land and the air, can only mean one thing, mellon nin. Something happened at the dwarves' village."
"How can you be sure it was there?"
"It was no mistake that two Elves and a Wizard were sent to the same spot. Radagast's power may be less than mine in Middle-Earth, but here, on the Undiscovered Island, I have yet to see him meet his equal, save perhaps Avanwë. Yet our restrictions here were the same as elsewhere. We're not supposed to meet power with power, wrath with wrath. We can fight the gleems here as we did the Orcs, Uruk-hai, Balrog, and such. We can guide, counsel, and advise, but I fear these two may have crossed that line."
"Avanwë is . . . ?"
"Sort of. Please, don't ask me to explain."
"Then I won't. What can we do now?"
"Head north, to the edge of the forest. We've been heading northeast. It's not far now. We can find the dwarf-village and figure out what happened."
"Sounds good enough."
"What was that?" Sam asked.
"I have two guesses, and I'm not overly fond of either," Peter admitted. "Either the elves have been defeated and the gleems tried to attack the west side of the forest, which is utter foolishness, or someone else has summoned the Nightwatchers' aid, which isn't easy. They listen to almost no one. I've tried. Morgan's tried. Every elf in our group has tired. Even Eric tried. There was only one person I can ever remember them obeying, and that was Aramis. He's dead. Unless . . . some kind of Elven magic might have been able to do it."
Sam shrugged. Merry shrugged back. Faramir gave Morgan a confused look. "Ask again some other time," Morgan suggested. "We still have a plan to try."
"Confusion, are you all right?"
"Fine. Just a headache, but thanks, Angelica."
"Confusion, that is not 'just a headache.' Something's wrong. What is it?"
"My brother . . . the Nightwatchers . . . he was the only one who could to that . . ."
Just then, a sound came rising from below. Even Athos smiled when he heard what it was, an old Shire song Bilbo had written.
"There is an inn, a merry old inn,
Beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the man in the moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill . . ."
It was a Hobbit's voice–clear, strong, happy, and sure. Merry alone was loud enough, and he had Sam's help, but Athos was in no way prepared for what happened next.
Merry and Sam sang the whole song through. Then Sam dropped out. Merry sang the first verse and then gave Sam a nod to come in with another song.
"In Western lands beneath the sun,
The flowers may rise in spring.
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night,
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all darkness rides the sun,
And stars forever dwell.
I will not say the day is done,
Nor bid the stars farewell."
This song was sadder, slower, quieter, so Faramir joined Sam on the second half with a harmony. When they were about to repeat, Faramir gave Morgan a wink. She and Peter joined in with a song called, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Morgan took the melody and Peter managed to figure out a good harmony that didn't clash too much with Sam's song. When they finished the chorus the second time, Morgan dropped out and Peter took over the melody. She came back in on the verse, but with another song.
"I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
A-traveling through this world of woe,
But there's no sickness, toil, nor danger
In that bright world to which I go.
I'm goin' there to see my father.
I'm goin' there no more to roam.
I'm just a-goin' over Jordan.
I'm just a-goin' over home."
The second time around, Faramir joined her. The words were simple enough to catch on to fast, and the tune wasn't hard. Morgan took her cue to drive Athos crazy and jumped in with something called, "Song at the Center."
"From the corners of creation
To the center where we stand,
Let all things be blessed and holy.
All is fashioned by your hand:
Brother Wind and Sister Water,
Mother Earth and Father Sky,
Sacred plants and sacred creatures,
Sacred people of the land.
In the east, the place of dawning,
There is beauty in the morn.
Here the seeker finds new visions
As each sacred day is born.
All who honor life around them,
All who honor life within,
They will shine with light and glory
As the morning breaks again
In the south, the place of growing,
There is wisdom in the earth–
Both the painful song of dying
And the joyful dong of birth.
As the earth gives up her life-blood
So her children's hearts may beat,
We give back to her our reverence,
Holy ground beneath our feet.
In the north, the place of wisdom,
There is holy darkness deep.
Here the silent song of mystery
May awake you from your sleep.
Here the music, still and holy,
Sounds beneath the snow and night
In the ones who wait with patience
For the coming of the light.
In the west, the place of seeing,
There is born a vision new
Of the servant of the servants
Who proclaimed a Gospel true.
Let all creatures of creation
Echo back creation's prayer.
Let the Spirit now breathe through us
And restore the sacred there.
From the corners of creation
To the center where we stand,
Let all things be blessed and holy.
All is fashioned by your hand:
Brother Wind and Sister Water,
Mother Earth and Father Sky,
Sacred plants and sacred creatures,
Sacred people of the land."
Morgan nodded to the group, and they all got louder. Merry got faster. Morgan kept about half his speed, and the others kept about half of hers. The weren't even in the same key. That was Merry's plan from the beginning, of course. The gleems would get sick of the noise and come to shut them up.
Anyone else would one heard a jumble of words and a terrible mixture of five different tunes, but for one Elf who was badly hurt and had next to no idea where he was, much less what to do, the sound was a warmer welcome than he'd expected. It meant his friends had a plan. He knew Merry's voice, and Sam's, and Faramir's wasn't hard to pick out. The other two had to be Peter and Morgan. After a moment of trying to figure out who was the guy and who was just a really low alto, Legolas decided it didn't really matter. Any other time, it would've taken him all of two seconds, but his head was pounding and it seemed a silly thing to try to concentrate that hard on.
The gleem roughly removed the Elf's arms from around his neck and set him down. "That'll be all," a gentle voice said. "Oh, and please, do go shut that noise up."
Legolas lay very still and tried to make Athos think he was unconscious. Then he wouldn't be bothered, hopefully.
Sam and Morgan got on the other side of the door. Morgan motioned for Sam to get in front. She knew he had the better chance of making it out, of being fast enough.
The gleems opened the door. Sam ran for it. The monsters were about to go after him, but suddenly a sword blocked their path. "Don't even think about it," Morgan warned.
So they turned on her instead. Faramir, Peter, and Merry did their best to distract them so Morgan could go with Sam, but the gleems' rage was targeted solely at their teenage friend. She collapsed, pretending to be dead so they'd leave. Her acting wasn't exactly that far from reality, either. The gleems left.
"Good thinking, Morgan," Faramir said, placing a hand lightly on Morgan's, as if to let her draw from his strength. "Did Sam . . . ?"
"He made it down the hall and around the corner," Peter said. "The gleems won't follow him. He doesn't know his way around. He's no threat."
"What about the directions Morgan gave him?" Sam asked.
"I don't even know if half of them were right," Morgan smiled. "I'm terrible with directions. I can't even tell people how to get to where I live, let alone a kitchen in a tower this big."
Peter shrugged. "If he finds it, he finds it. If not, we'll think of something else."
"Oh, come back, you cowards! Come back and fight!" Gimli called at the sky. Then, to Aragorn, "I think they're gone, laddy."
Aragorn couldn't help laughing. "What was that sudden darkness, though?" he asked Latano. The ranger somehow knew the elf had the best chance of knowing.
"Nightwatchers. They live in the west side of the forest. Almost no one else goes there."
"Why would they attack now?"
"I don't know. Something's happened. We should try to find the others."
"Wow," Bergil shouted. "Did you see that, Eowyn? Total black, and then they just retreated!"
"Yes, but why?"
"Who cares? They're gone!"
"Could Gandalf and Elrond have done this?"
"Probably. That was so neat!"
Eowyn smiled. It had been kind of neat.
Balo shrugged. Tandro shrugged. Rona shrugged. Only Noka had something to say. "I knew the Nightwatchers could be fierce," he said, "but they've always only protected their side of the forest. This could be a turning point."
"Only if they keep it up," Rona said.
"Strange. You're normally Miss Optimistic," Noka laughed.
"It's just that the Nightwatchers have never been interested in the rest of us. They've only worried about themselves, their land. Why now?"
"Rona's right. We can't count on them wanting to help again," Tandro agreed.
"Whatever," Balo shrugged. "We're all alive. Let's go find the others."
"Hop on," Avanwë called to Radagast. "We've got to follow those creeps."
Radagast mounted and whispered something to the horse, forgetting for a moment that Avanwë spoke the language of the Undiscovered Island as well as he did. "No!" Avanwë shouted. "We have to follow them!"
"We have a better chance of being able to help Legolas if we all work together. All of us, Avanwë. Set us down in the northern village, Rainbow. Then go get the others."
"I have never seen anyone bowl that well," Susan remarked. They were at Samuel's house. His parents and sisters were out. His dad was working; the others were shopping.
"Beginner's luck, mellon nin," Samuel laughed.
Glorfindel almost jumped. "You speak Elvish?!?"
Samuel blushed. "A little. Only what I managed to pick up from the movies."
"Whoa, hold it! Movies? What? Tom, where did you send me?"
"The United States of America," Susan said, confused.
"The what?"
"Glorfindel, I should probably start at the beginning," Samuel sighed. He tossed the Elf a book. "Look familiar?"
Glorfindel stared at the cover for a long time. "The Lord of the Rings," he said at last. "Samuel, where am I?"
"You can stop that now, Legolas," Athos said confidently. "You can't fool me as easily as other people."
Legolas opened his eyes, taking in everything. The room might've actually seemed welcoming under any other circumstances. Everything was so simple, so casual. The walls were a light bluish-grey. The carpet was a dark green that reminded the Elf of his home in Mirkwood. There was a desk, a couple of chairs, and a window with no glass. The gleem had set him down on a couch, a dark brown color. The only other person there was Athos, the gleems' leader.
Legolas was a little surprised. He'd expected Athos to be rough and harsh, cruel in the same way as Sauron, and even Saruman. He didn't seem like a leader at all, much less one who wanted to conquer the world. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and his desk was covered with drawings, writings, and paintings.
"Oh, so you are alive," Athos smiled. "Good. I wouldn't want a dead Elf on my hands."
"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"Sort of, but the truth, as well. I don't like death on my conscience. It stays there forever."
"You . . . have been responsible for death before."
"You're very perceptive, Legolas."
"Thank you, I guess." Then, because something inside told him to, he added, "Hannon le."
Athos smiled. At least Legolas felt comfortable enough to speak his own language around him. It was something.