The East Gate
Authors The Eastgaters

Cast list
Frodo – Baylor
Samwise – Budgielover
Pippin – Marigold
Merry – Llinos
Legolas – Mainframe
Aragorn – Nilramiel
Boromir – Rachel Stonebreaker
Gimli – Q
Gollum – Llinos
The Wicked Elves – Baylor & Mainframe
Mister and Missus Tugman – Llinos

Story Editor Llinos
Beta Marigold

Chapter 8 – Mistakes and Misgivings

As he gained upon Gollum, Aragorn recognized the look of the foliage and of the earth. Was the gangral creature actually hoping to trick them? Perhaps he had forgotten that it was a Ranger he was taunting. No Ranger would be deceived by such a simple tactic, and certainly not this Ranger, who had navigated far more dangerous terrain, though not, perhaps, in pursuit of a more slippery quarry.

"Aragorn, wait, please!" Frodo called again, fearful his first warning had gone unheeded."

Aragorn stopped, turning and bending low so that he could speak in a whisper to the hobbits.

"Shhhh. He seeks to lead us into fool's sand. The earth appears solid and firm, yet if you place your weight upon it, you will be pulled down and trapped within. Watch for sandy patches of earth with vine like plants nearby. Stay close behind me. I will not lead you astray."

The man looked from one hobbit to the other. What they really needed was sleep, and clean water, and care for their wounds. Yet how could they rest with this cursed creature lurking nearby? He was surprisingly strong, despite his thinness, and the Ranger doubted that either of the hobbits could face him down, alone, not in their condition. No, he must capture Gollum, quickly, and bind him. Then they could make camp.

Sam looked back at the Ranger, trying to hide his exhaustion and the fact that he was increasingly unable to keep his feet. The running had forced him to dredge up almost the last of his reserves and Frodo looked no better. Now that they had stopped, the ground swam before Sam's eyes and he clenched his toes into the earth to keep from swaying. Sam had almost no experience with Men, but he could see the worry on Aragorn's face as the man's eyes travelled over his master and himself. Did they look so bad then, to cause such worry in the tall man's mien?

They did, Sam thought, looking at Frodo then glancing down at the foul, stinking black blood still crusting his own clothes. They looked awful. What his Gaffer would say about Sam letting Mr. Frodo get into such a state didn't bear thinking about. Suddenly dizzy, Sam sat down in a clatter of cooking pots, his grip shaking on his drawn sword. 'fool's sand' or not, he wasn't going anywhere until he'd caught his breath.

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A splinter? What was the lad talking about? Boromir looked up from where he was kneeling, carefully packing his things. A splinter? Seriously? This was a reason to sound so petulant? Surely the lad jested. But no, when he saw the prickling tears, Boromir knew the lad was about to lose control. He needed to handle this quickly or they'd have trouble on their hands. He was in no mood for hysteria or more tears. Though he did have a twinge of pity for the lad. It had been a very hard day.

"Weeeeeell, now. Just let me have a look at it". He crossed the short distance in two steps, had the lad locked under his arm, with the offended foot turned up as much as he could without twisting it or turning the lad upside down. Yes, there was a splinter, perhaps. But it was so very small… yes, there it was, when he ran his hand over the calloused foot he watched as Peregrin winced when he brushed the splinter's edge.

"Ow! Boromir, it really hurts." Pippin's bottom lip quivered and another tear squeezed from his mournful eyes.

Before the hobbit could utter even one more peep, Boromir did what his own father had always done. He whipped out his small knife, pulled the lad up and flipped him over so the toe was at his own eye level and looked down at Peregrin in amusement as he saw the lad's eyes go wide at the sight of the knife.

Pippin squeaked in fright, "Boromir, put me down! Don't cut it, please don't…"

"We'll have it out in no time at all, with hardly a mark." And he deftly nicked the skin, removed the splinter and returned the hobbit to an upright position. All before Peregrin could so much as take a single breath.

"Do you want to see the evil lance that savaged you so?" Boromir held out the tiny splinter. He did have to admit, though, for a small hobbit foot, it was rather a large piece of wood. He ruffled Peregrin's hair. "Go and lie down now, and don't keep Gimli awake with any of your tall tales." Boromir felt like a father! As he turned back to his task of packing up and refilling the water skins, he stifled a huge yawn.

As miserable as he felt, Gimli was sure he couldn't sleep anymore. He scrubbed at his face and stretched, cautious of his leg and his other aches and pains, then carefully eased around towards the other two.

"Keep me awake, Master Boromir!" Gimli barked. "I'll have you know that we Dwarves are renowned for our stamina. To your own rest now, Sir, and let me take the first watch." A bit embarrassed, Gimli aimed for gruffness with his next comment. "And you, young hobbit, come here." He patted the ground next to himself. "Come and sit by me and we'll tell a tale or two." He looked at Boromir again, and said more kindly, "Sleep, lad. We have much work to do, and I am in need of a pipe before I'll take my rest again."

A bit dizzy and not too sure what had just happened, Pippin staggered over to Gimli's side weaving like he had had too much ale and sat down with a 'whumph' determined that he was going nowhere, at least until he'd had a little rest. He took his foot in one hand and considered his poor toe, then glared at Boromir with narrowed eyes and sniffed, feeling put out at being treated in so cavalier a fashion.

Then Pippin thought of the care with which the man had treated his more serious injuries and smiled at them both in turn. "Gimli is right you know, Boromir. You need to rest. But Gimli, if you need to sleep I think I could stay awake longer.

Boromir carefully finished packing his gear before acknowledging either offer. "Well, I am at present the most able bodied of the three of us, though I confess weariness weighs heavily on me now."

"Or Gimli could wake me up after he's had his pipe if that's better?" Pippin hoped he could keep his eyes open, but if Boromir and Gimli wanted to rest then he would manage somehow.

Boromir tied off his pack and sat down in front of it using it as a backrest. Looking at the gruff old dwarf, his eyebrows bristling, beard jutting out, all but daring Boromir to argue, he decided that maybe he should give in this time. He thought Gimli capable of standing watch, though after hearing Peregrin's offer Boromir had to struggle not to laugh. The youngling was so exhausted he wondered what was keeping him upright even now. But the lad still showed much of the spark and grace that made him such a delight even though he could, such as just a moment before, be such an aggravation.

And if the dwarf proved unable to resist the draw of sleep, then what harm, really? "Master Gimli, I will take you up on your offer to take first watch." Boromir looked carefully about, "We will hear anything trying to come through the tumbled bricks. I will rest in front of the cabinet door, although I do not think anything will use that bolthole. The vent, we'll just have to risk. Wake me when you see fit." And with that he took his pack over to the cabinet, set it down and laid himself out with his hands crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. He felt himself start to drift off almost immediately.

Gimli watched with approval as the man settled himself, exhaustion etched into his face when he finally closed his eyes and sighed.

The young hobbit peered up at Gimli. "Now, my lad, Boromir did a fine job, but we need to keep a close eye on your wounds. You'll be a good fellow and let us know if they pain you, yes? No false heroics. Not when it could cost you your life." He carefully extracted the pipe his father had given him along with his treasured pouch of pipe weed – a parting gift from Bilbo, he remembered – and his hands faltered briefly. He prepared his pipe, and took a great puff, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Pippin nodded and opened his mouth, but Gimli continued. "First you can tell me all that has occurred while I…" Gimli harrumphed slightly, "…dozed. Then I am afraid I am going to have to tell you about a task that only you can fulfil, or we will not be leaving this chamber." His eyes darted briefly at the hidden entrance to the secret passageway, and he sighed. The young hobbit had been through so much already today.

Pippin pillowed his head on his pack and resisted his eyes drifting closed. It was hard to do, as tired as he was, and the dwarf's tone was so solicitous… he spoke in a pleasant rumbling voice that Pippin could not remember ever hearing Gimli use before. Then there was the soporific cloud of smoke from Gimli's pipe that Pip recognised as being filled with Old Toby, Cousin Bilbo's favourite pipe weed and his Uncle Saradoc's and Gandalf's. The younger hobbits generally preferred to smoke Longbottom Leaf, but Pippin had spent many hours as a child with these cherished elders, loitering by the fire in the sitting room at Bag End, or the Long Room at the Great Smial's or the family parlour at Brandy Hall, long after he and Merry should have been in bed, listening to tales and drifting off to the sounds of much loved voices and the smell of Old Toby, barely conscious of being carried off to his warm bed or of stumbling there with Merry's help. The aroma of Gimli's pipe brought back many happy memories.

Eventually Pippin realised Gimli was waiting for him to speak, "It's quite good, Gimli. Boromir says that Legolas carried Merry out and that he wouldn't have done that if Merry weren't alive, and I think he's right about that, don't you?" Pippin paused for Gimli to confirm what he wanted to hear.

"Aye, I'm sure that's right," Gimli himself was relieved by the news. At least the elf had done something useful then.

Pippin beamed then continued, "Frodo and Sam and everyone else got out, Boromir saw them go, he said they were running and were all alive.

"Well that's good too, young Pippin." Gimli puffed away and smiled round his pipe at the enthusiastic youngster.

"Then while you were dozing, Boromir wrenched open the cabinet doors and we found the outline of the secret door, and…" suddenly Pippin yawned hugely. "I beg your pardon," he said politely, trying to stifle it with a hand.

"And then I crawled through that vent… shaft thing to find the other side of the door because we couldn't open it from this side and it wasn't too difficult although I did get a bit scared because the tunnel is so small and I almost got stuck once, but I found it all right. I couldn't lift the latch though, because it was too heavy but I will take the rope in with me next time. I thought I could tie it to the latch and Boromir could pull it up. Then there is a handle and I will open the door for you and Boromir. You saved us Gimli, by knowing about that special door and telling us about it, and I won't ever tell anyone about the dwarves' secret, nor will Boromir I am quite sure."

He stretched, feeling his muscles getting stiff, then adjusted his position, nestling his head deeper into his pack. "What other task did you want to tell me about Gimli? I might have to rest a little before I can do it, and I know I will have to rest before I go through that hole again. It's really not a hole that is to a hobbit's liking I am afraid!" He managed to stifle the next yawn and looked at Gimli expectantly with drooping eyelids.

Gimli listened to Pippin's recitation with a growing sense of guilt. The little hobbit had done so much, and was still hard at work, reporting back his and Boromir's actions while Gimli had been unconscious. What other task did Gimli have for him? "Go to sleep, my lad," Gimli said, barely recognizing his voice. "You've done the task I had in mind already. I'll keep watch over you, just as you did over me earlier. T'is only fair."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

There was a moment of silence as Legolas quickly read the signs Merry had unconsciously left in the bracken, his fingers lightly hovering over the place where the hobbit had last rested. Leaves and topsoil had been disturbed and small fingers had dug easily into the soft earth in order to pull himself along.

Then the leaves spoke quietly to him. They had heard Merry say that he should spare Legolas the encumbrance, that he was almost spent and the elf should not worry for his safety. "Oh Merry," Legolas whispered to the helpful foliage, "He should value himself above that!" The leaves nodded wisely in agreement.

He heard when Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin dropped down behind him but continued slowly towards the river and at the lip of an incline the tracks changed as if Merry's weight left the ground in places and continued to do so at intervals until the tracks vanished into the river. 'Of course, he must have rolled into the waters, it was the only way he could escape my care.' he thought. 'Merry you were no terrible burden, your life is worth much to your cousins and to me.'

Legolas had not needed to see the small droplets of blood here and there to know that the fall had jostled his friend's wound again, the metallic smell hung in the air surrounding the riverbank, kept down by the humidity.

As he stood scanning the river for any sign of his friend, the three brothers stood at his flank and with sad mournful, but determined eyes Legolas turned to them. "He's not dead! Merry could not have gone far; we must search the river, for he is gravely wounded. He is the reason why Estel sent me on ahead; we hoped he could be tended by a healer in your city."

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"Curse the stupid creatures! They is taking the Precious into the fool's sand! It will be losst! Losst forever and forever. Nooo! They's not so clever. Sméagol knows where It is. The thieving little hobbit keeps It – keepses the Precious round hiss necks! We gets hiss neck and squeezes it – then we gets the Precious back!

"Sméagol is clever and Sméagol is strong – pushes the skin and bone hobbit in the fool's sand and then we grab the Precious while he struggles. He won't get out! He's skinny but still he's got fat enough to sink and sink. Then we grab the Precious and runs and runs and runs. Man won't catches us and stupid fat hobbit can't run any more – he's sat down on his netherhinds."

Gollum stopped his dancing from one leg to the other as he saw Frodo pause a few paces away from a large patch of fool's sand. With an agility that belied his great age and worn appearance he squat-ran like a bandy legged spider orc towards the pursuers.

Managing to side step the Ranger, the creature flung his full weight at Frodo and carried him several feet across the rough ground and into the fool's sand. Landing on top of him, Gollum tried to snatch open the hobbit's shirt to grab the Ring before they both sank.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Gimli sighed, then fussed with his pipe, distracting himself. But at last, he gave himself up to thought.

So they'd found the passageway, the little one had managed to work his way through it, and had even come up with a plan. A good one, too, Gimli admitted to himself. He doubted he'd been able to give much information to Pippin and Boromir before he'd collapsed; all credit was due to his companions.

What a revelation to gasp out to a halfling and a human! Yet he'd had no choice, no choice at all, and he trusted them to keep the Dwarves' secret just that – secret. Of course, if they didn't succeed in escaping… But Gimli resolutely turned his thoughts from that path, and back to planning.

Very well. He was getting better, but it took weeks, even for a sturdy dwarf, to recover from a broken leg. Boromir was a large, strong man, but not even he could carry Gimli for more than a few paces, nor could Gimli hobble more than a few steps at a time. The hobbit was a brave lad, but he had less strength than a dwarf-child.

Gimli could see only two possible endings: All three of them died in this very chamber, whether from starvation or the enmity of the orcs, or the man and the hobbit escaped through the secret passage, leaving Gimli behind.

Then that would be it, he decided, puffing contentedly. He would remain behind. It was only fitting; he'd brought them to Moria, against the Wizard's wishes, and the Wizard had died here. Gimli would join him, and remain sealed in the secret chambers of Khazad-dûm, with his cousin Balin.

He sighed yet again, somehow comforted, even now, at the end of his life, knowing he would soon rejoin his ancestors, while these good folk remained free.

The hours flew away.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Now then Mister Tugman, this child has been cut bad with a knife. Who would harm a little mite so?"

"Right you be Missus Tugman. Floating in the Silverlode Oi found 'e. Either them as cut he, tried to drownded he or the boy escaped them as would murder he and fell in all on heself."

"Does thee think there be those groblins from the mountains? What else might have attacked the tiny child Mister Tugman? Surely not even elfs would deal such a blow to a babe like he."

"Nay Missus Tugman, they groblins'd not roam so far in the light of the sun. Maybe 'twas elfs or a most wicked parent or some as stole he away for a slave and then tired o' he."

"Well he be mine now Mister Tugman, mine and thine, do he live. He be a pleasing little thing and most fair to the eye, even though he be ailing. Oi'll tend he well, don't thee fear."

Merry realised that opening his eyes would be a good thing to do now. He had been dimly listening to the conversation, not understanding all of it, but liking the sound of the voices, which were sonorous and kindly. He blinked his lids up and down until his vision finally focussed and adjusted to the dim light of a flickering candle, shadows on the wall showing there was a fire burning somewhere in the cramped room as well.

He was lying on a small cot and was vaguely aware that he no longer hurt as much as he had. The pain in his chest was a dull ache, nagging at him but not seizing him at every breath with unbearable agony. Merry tried to speak to the large woman who leaned over him. Her grey hair was piled on top of her head in a knot and her ample bosom was laced into a thick corset. "M-m-m…" his voice would not come, his mouth too dry and his strength exhausted.

"Now then child, don't thee tax thysen." The woman sat beside him on the cot and gently lifted Merry's upper body and rested his head in her lap. "Mither Tugman Oi be. Oi'll take good care on thee, nurse thee like mine own child. Won't let none o' them elfs give thee harm again." She raised a spoon to his lips and dropped some liquid into his mouth, repeating the gesture several times. "If'n yourn mither and ferther be gone, thee will be our son, mine and Mister Tugman's, we'll love thee as our own."

"I-I n-not a-a child." Merry managed to stutter. "I-I am a hobb… a ho…" He suddenly felt very tired and unable to continue. These people obviously thought he was a small child and not an adult, which if they had never met a hobbit before was not surprising, but, while he was grateful for their help, he did not want them to think he was an orphan that needed to be adopted. "My n-name i-is…" It was no good, Merry could no longer keep his eyes open, the room grew softer and further away and the voices faded to a whisper. Before he drifted off into velvet blackness he heard the woman, Mother Tugman she had called herself, still talking to the man.

"Oi, gave he a good dosing o' the poppy, Mister Tugman. He should sleep good and long, keep he still and quiet, while he so poorly off."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Aragorn! Sam!" Frodo cried in panic and all of his motions mired him even deeper in the fool's sand. Throughout it all, he was unaware that he clasped the Ring desperately in one hand.

Aragorn heard the creature coming, and whirled to make a grab at it, but he was inches short of the slippery wretch. With surprising force, Gollum crashed into Frodo, lifting him literally off his feet and throwing them both into a wide patch of the dangerous sand. Small though they were, their combined weight, along with the force of Gollum's charge, drove them into the deadly bog, and immediately they began to sink.

"Frodo!" the Ranger shouted. Silently he cursed his decision to go after the creature, he had made a choice and chosen badly. Frodo was weak, injured, exhausted. The wiry Gollum would drown him for sure. Perhaps he would drown himself as well, but the man doubted Gollum would have made the rush if he did not believe he could escape the fool's sand somehow, bearing the treasure he coveted.

And Frodo was fighting. Perhaps it was the hold of the Ring, but as Gollum tried to reach the hobbit's neck, the Ring-bearer rallied, screamed, and kicked powerfully with both legs, knocking Gollum away from him, and at the same time driving himself deeper into the deadly muck. He struggled, a dangerous thing to do when encountering fool's sand, and cried out for help.

Paying no attention at all to Gollum, who was flopping about like a fish not far from an overhanging tree, Aragorn ran to the side of the patch that was nearest to the struggling hobbit. As he ran, he called to him, unsure if Frodo could heed the Ranger through his obvious panic.

"Don't struggle! Frodo! Listen to me – be still! Fighting will make you sink more swiftly. Be still! Frodo! Hear me!" Over and over he shouted to the hobbit. But Frodo continued to thrash and cry for help.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Pippin, exhausted, fell at once into a restless sleep, and almost immediately he shifted and cried out but in a voice that was not quite his own. Suddenly he felt an almost overwhelming wave of pain, and a longing for Pippin's comforting embrace. It was Merry, it must be Merry, and in his dream Pippin called forth all of the strength he could muster and lent it to his suffering cousin, his soul mate, whispering words of encouragement and comfort, holding his friend tightly, knowing that he could cause him no pain in this dream world no matter how tightly he clung to him.

Pippin was aware of the world flowing by, images of a landscape he did not know passing so quickly that he saw little of it, or perhaps it was through Merry's eyes that he was seeing and Merry could not grasp the reality of the ever-changing scenes. Merry was too busy trying to hold onto life and Pippin tried to lend his cousin all of the encouragement he could, "I am all right." He told Merry over and over again. "You must be all right too." And then he finally felt Merry relax and rest as the world continued to move, although he himself seemed to stay still, held tightly in other arms that kept him safe and Pippin drifted away, back into unremembered dreams of his own.

Gimli sighed yet again, somehow comforted, even now, at the end of his life, knowing he would soon rejoin his ancestors, while these good folk remained free and the hours flew away.

Boromir never really slept well when he was out in the field. He could never truly relax enough to fall into that deep restful sleep that restored and allowed for dreams. After years of battle readiness, Boromir missed those languid nights and long mornings when he'd wake in the arms of someone far, far prettier than the dwarf he was now staring at.

Ugh. Time to get moving. With practiced ease, he rose carefully and quietly. Fellow soldiers appreciated not being woken unnecessarily. He rolled his head to release the cricks. Tiny pops were his reward for loosening the joints in his neck. He rolled his shoulders with eyes closed relishing the few minutes of peace.

Sometimes he longed for the days with his brother on the banks of the river, skimming stones, imitating birds, teasing their dog with a rag ball. How that dog loved to swim – like Faramir. Faramir would have spent every moment of every summer in the water if he could have. But too soon, duties and lessons and life took their hold and both lads were called away to separate posts. Boromir knew it rankled on Faramir that Boromir always seemed to get the better responsibilities, the jobs that seemed more fun or daring. It wasn't something he, Boromir, intentionally strove for. It was just how their father saw fit to make things happen. Still, if he could, Boromir would now gladly give up some of those coveted tasks if he could just have a day or two on the banks of the river with Faramir, the rag ball and their dog…

The dwarf cleared his throat and brought Boromir's attention back to reality. Looking over at the sleeping, though somewhat restless hobbit, Boromir rose and moved to sit beside Gimli and offer a water skin and biscuit. "How long did we sleep? Not long I hope. The sooner we are out of this place the better."

"How long?" Gimli frowned in thought. "Several hours, I believe. 'Tis very quiet out there," and he jerked his head behind him, indicating the collapsed entrance. "Perhaps they think us dead. Or as good as," he added glumly, looking at his bandaged leg.

Boromir grimaced slightly, "I know this is not what you'd intended when we took your route instead of mine. I was beginning to rather enjoy the thought of a Dwarven welcome." He placed a hand on Gimli's shoulder, "I am so very sorry for your loss. Family is sometimes all we can count on in this world." He took his hand away and picked up the water skin to take another drink. Stopping before taking a swig he looked over to the dwarf for a moment. Then he took the drink of water, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stoppered the skin and set it down.

"Aye, thanks lad." Gimli sniffed, "I cannot mourn them properly here and now, it is the right place, but not the right time." He swallowed away his regret and loss. He had permitted himself brief tears when they'd discovered Balin's tomb, and Boromir had rested a hand on his shoulder then, but there were lives still in the balance here. "Now," he continued in a very different tone of voice, indicating that that discussion was closed, "we have plans to lay and decisions to make." He nodded at Pippin. "The lad told me that you found the passageway, and that he even entered it. His idea about how to open the door was a good one, too. You both should go as soon as he's fully rested and you've eaten."

The two warriors stared at each other. Gimli knew that Boromir understood what he was saying. He tugged at his beard impatiently; he would be glad when they both were gone, and he would be left in peace and quiet. Then he would mourn his losses, away from Men and Hobbits.

"Oh, no, I'm not going to give into your self-sacrificing noble schemes!" Boromir had heard such nonsense before. "I've not left a comrade behind yet who could motivate under some power, even another's, and I'm not going to start here."

"You carry me! How far do you think you could carry me, Master Boromir? And with my leg trussed up like this?" He glanced at Pippin, not wanting to wake him, and sighed, trying to settle himself.

Boromir paused. He'd have to couch his next words in a manner that would not get Gimli's defences up and his mind closed. The Dwarf could be obstinate, stubborn, agonizingly irritating; and those were his good qualities, "I've no idea what awaits us out there once we break free of this guard room, but we will have need to rely heavily upon your Dwarven knowledge of Mines' in order to gain our final freedom. How soon do you think you can manoeuvre yourself?" Boromir inclined his head to the splinted leg. "As much as you may find it distasteful, I am quite capable of shipping your sad arse all the way to Gondor if I've such a mind – which, out of pity for Gondor I haven't. But I could."

"I cannot help you like this, Boromir," Gimli gestured at his leg. "Perhaps you could carry me, but carry me to what end? Your arguments are fallacious," Gimli hissed at the man, "I can easily describe the passageway. You've a nose, you can find your own way out. That hobbit-lad certainly could."

Boromir dug into his pack and produced a small piece of dried fish he'd been saving for a treat after Meriadoc and Peregrin's next lesson. He liked to give them some sort of meat if he had it to spare. It helped to replace the energy he'd knocked out of them. He took a bit so as not to appear too charitable and handed the rest to the Dwarf. "Our lad will need both of us once we are out of here and on our way to meet up with the others if that is at all possible. He cannot stand the blow of loosing another friend." Boromir left these words to sink in to the dwarf's thick skull.

"I'm being practical," Gimli picked up a fragment of the dried fish, sniffing it and wrinkling his nose. He glanced up at Boromir. "I am not suicidal, or battle-weary, or seeking an heroic death. I am stating the obvious. I cannot, and will not, hinder your escape.

"I appreciate your offer," Gimli said, and it wasn't entirely a lie. "But we've both been in battle before. There are casualties, and losses that must be born. 'Tis more important that Pippin rejoin his cousins, for their sake as well as his." He paused, and then in an even softer growl said, "For the sake of the Quest." The members of the Fellowship rarely alluded to why they had joined together; it was almost taboo, and the words stung Gimli's tongue. He saw the effect they had on Boromir, too.

Boromir snorted in frustration. If he had any energy left it was quickly being sapped out of him. "Arguing with a dwarf is akin to arguing with a wall. Except a wall has the good sense to not talk nonsense."

Gimli felt slightly abashed at this, "No, my boy. 'Twas a kind offer, and in other circumstances it might be the best offer, but here, in this dark place that has brought so much pain, there is nowt for any of us to do but our duty. Yours is to go, and to shepherd Pippin in the going. Mine is to help you do so, and I do that best by remaining behind." Gimli tossed the flakes of fish in his mouth. "Is this what Men call food?" he asked. "Cram is better, had I any cram to offer you."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Haldir leaned over the embankment, taking in the same tracks that Legolas had just noted. "Did you travel with another?" he asked. "It appears someone has just thrown themselves down the bank; I find this a strange riddle.

Legolas fixed cold eyes upon the Marchwarden, all prior feelings of relief and kinship swept away by that one callous remark. "The little one feared to burden me and has tried to sacrifice himself to save me from harm. He is sorely wounded and alone and probably terrified now." His soft voice rose as he turned to face Haldir completely. No longer the warm, open wood elf who had so freely shared his joy at the realisation that he was once again in the company of his own kind, but changed instantly into the stern and regal son of King Thranduil. He stood there as still and hard as granite pinning the Silvan Elf with sapphire orbs that swirled and darkened to a midnight pitch.

Haldir's hand gripped his bow a little tighter, his chin rose a little higher in defiance. His fair face went blank and his eyes narrowed at the wood elf's intimidating stare, but Haldir did not quite look away. "Have you other companions? Before we can take any action, I must know your situation. Tell me your tale, and make haste."

As much as Legolas wished to throttle this arrogant elf, for he had forgotten how officious and condescending elves could be, he knew time was of the essence, he would not even entertain the idea of Merry drowning. He had been entrusted with the hobbit and he must find him at all costs. He had not had time to name himself to the Lórien elves before he had fled to return to Merry. Perhaps his identity would instil more of a sense of urgency in these border guards.

"I did not introduce myself at our meeting. I ask your pardon, but I was afraid for my charge, and my fear as you see was well founded. I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm." Surprise replaced the haughtiness in Haldir's eyes and all three brothers dipped their heads slightly in deference. I came with a Fellowship of nine, we set out from Imladris with the blessings of Lord Elrond," Legolas summarised their journey as quickly as he could. "We were forced to travel through the Mines of Moria and there Mithrandir fell to a Balrog of the deep."

Orophin and Rúmil gasped, eyes gone wide in shock while Haldir's composure broke to only a lesser degree at the news of the Istari's demise.

"Estel of the Dunedain escaped with two of the halflings in our Fellowship," Legolas continued, omitting the purpose of their journey; he dare not give voice of the One Ring's discovery. "I carried out a third halfling, who is gravely wounded and another of his kin was trapped in the Mine with the remaining two of our companions, Gimli son of Gloin of the Lonely Mountain, and Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor. Those three bought our escape, I fear, with their lives."

"I left my charge here, whilst I led the warg off, and that is when I met you." Legolas paused long enough to gauge the expression of bemused puzzlement on the elves' faces, "The hobbits – halflings – have become very dear to us," he allowed himself a small smile as he shouldered his bow and prepared to move on to search for Merry. "It is impossible not to be affected thus by them, but you will meet them for yourselves soon enough."

They started out along the riverbank, ever watchful for sight, sound or track. After only a short time Legolas became aware of eyes on him, he turned and found Haldir watching him closely. The Marchwarden sent Rúmil and Orophin on ahead as it became obvious that Legolas would not speak and instead was sinking into a melancholy obviously born of worry.

Haldir realised that he could not allow Legolas to slip into despair now when the perian was still missing. He did not truly believe that the halfling was alive, after all he was mortal, small and fragile like a human child. But he was determined to distract this elf, who had been charged with his safety, away from his dark mood. "Tell me of the periain, do they really eat as much as rumour has it?"

He arched an eyebrow as this caused Legolas to at last smile. "Oh yes, that is quite true, I have never seen an appetite such as the periain possess. They are quite capable of eating up to three times that of a grown man and 'tis custom for them to eat six times a day!"

"Six? Surely you jest!"

"Nay, 'tis true. Their days can revolve entirely around eating and drinking and 'tis more than once Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli or I have had to hunt more game in the evening to stop the periain from complaining of empty bellies." he smiled fondly.

"And the one we search for, Merry, what of him?"

"Why, are you curious?"

"Yes, I have never met periain before and from what you have told me I am interested to hear more."

"Merry. He is the only son of Saradoc, the Master of Buckland…" At Haldir's blank look he explained briefly the lay of the Shire then continued. "…and Esmeralda Took and passed his majority a few years ago. He is first cousin to Peregrin Took via his mother's side and second cousins with Frodo via his father, he..."

"Stop please; I have no wish for you to go into so much detail for my head will ache from it!" He cried good-naturedly. "Are all hobbit lines this…entwined?" he inquired.

"Yes as a matter of fact they are and, before you ask, the only reason I know all of this and can recite it by heart is because hobbits love nothing more than to discuss their family lines and the fine art of pipe weed. How my head would spin as Pippin or Merry mainly, would sit and speak for hours to anyone who would listen."

"You were too generous; I think I may have taken to the trees for salvation."

"I tried that and Merry sat at the bottom of the tree and continued as before."

It was Haldir's turn to smile at the image of the golden-haired elf fleeing from the chattering hobbit.

"I think they took my silence to mean a willing audience, though in truth it was not as tiresome as it sounds, for we all grew closer though such antics. Even Gimli was not immune to their charms and would often converse with them on the finer points of pipe weed." The thought of the dwarf momentarily made him wish he were beside him now, growling and insulting him, he missed the banter more than he thought possible.

"I confess I am not so sure I wish to meet these little ones that eat all, talk all and smoke weeds." Haldir concluded.

Just then Rúmil and Orophin emerged from the trees in front and smiled when they saw that their brother had managed to draw the guest from his dark brooding.

"Have you found anything?" Haldir asked, serious and businesslike once more.

"We have," said Orophin as he came to stand in front of his brother, Rúmil at his right.

"You have found Merry? Where? How?" Legolas gripped Orophin's arm.

"Peace Legolas of Mirkwood," Orophin laid a gentle hand on top of Legolas', soothing him to clam, "we may have found your friend but we did not see him."

Haldir quickly took command, "what did you find?"

"We found brother that we have not visited this part of Lórien in too long it seems, for we came across a human dwelling near the water's edge and it looks to have been there several decades or so at least."

Haldir frowned at Rúmil, this was not pleasing news, The Golden Wood was not for the habitation of humans and where one built, others would follow he feared, human's living anywhere near to Caras Galadhon turned his stomach, they would attract Orc infestation for sure and that might explain why, for the first time, warg now wandered this forest. But nothing happened in Lothlórien without the Lady's knowledge and he trusted her judgment, though he would raise his concerns with her at the first opportunity.

"What makes you think that the humans have anything to do with Merry?" Legolas was becoming impatient as Haldir mulled over this news that obviously did not sit well with him.

"You said that your friend was badly wounded, there was a small boat pulled up on shore and Orophin found blood in it that did not smell human. However we have never encountered periain so we could not be sure it was your friend."

"How far is this…settlement from here?" Haldir asked, though he near spat out the words.

"Three miles up stream," and before his brother could ask Orophin added that they smelt only two humans within the cabin.

Haldir halted Legolas before the elf could stride too far. "We cannot simply walk up to their front door and demand entrance," he stated, earning a scowl.

"And why not?" He demanded, concern for Merry clouding his judgement now that they were so close.

Haldir sighed. "This is not Imladris nor Mirkwood Legolas, we of the Golden Wood do not associate with humans as readily as the other elven realms and humans in these lands are often suspicious and distrustful of us."

As Haldir's anger seeped into his words, Legolas brought his full attention back to the Marchwarden. It would be foolish to ignore advice given by one who has lived in these parts for millennia, and Haldir had not gained the title of Marchwarden lightly. "Why do you hold back, what is the cause of such prejudice Haldir? We in Mirkwood may not have had the peace of Imladris or Lothlórien, yet we have no trouble with humans and often they travel to the palace. My father imports much from the peoples of Lake Town and has done so for many generations of man."

Haldir's lips tightened but at a nod from Orophin he spoke. "Orophin is the youngest of we three," he flicked his eyes to his brother and they softened before returning them to their visitor. "Before he entered the Galadhrim perimeter guardians he was a runner between here and Imladris and whilst returning from one such errand he came across a riderless horse. Concerned that someone might be hurt, he left the path and headed in the direction the animal had come from. He found the rider easily enough, he was human and whatever the circumstances were, the horse had shied and thrown the man and he had fallen, breaking his neck."

He paused as he watched Rúmil unconsciously wrap an arm around his brother's waist and pull him a little closer.

"At that same moment six other humans rode up and surrounded my brother, he was set upon, parted from his mare and beaten. They refused to listen when he spoke of how he had found their friend and that he had just wanted to help…" Haldir's eyes burned as the memories surfaced as fresh as the day they were created. "When his mare arrived riderless and frothing at the mouth, eyes wide and refusing to allow any near her, we rode out immediately, easily picking up where the mare had left the path. We found him there, beaten bloody, tied to a tree and left for dead, he was so badly beaten that it was four days before he regained consciousness and many more after that before he could walk and talk again."

Legolas watched as the stern-faced Marchwarden reached out and gently cupped the side of his brother's face while whispering words of comfort to a clearly distressed Rúmil. Oddly enough Orophin seemed not to be affected as badly as his brothers and Legolas suddenly felt like an intruder on a very private moment.

"The Lady of our Realm read from his mind what had occurred," Haldir explained, glancing back to Legolas. "He does not now remember anything about that day; the memories never returned by the Grace of the Valar, but those images will never leave Rúmil and I for as long as we live."

Orophin gave them both a quick reassuring embrace before walking towards Legolas "And poor Orophin has ever since been mothered!" He winked at Legolas and smiled back at his brothers who scowled in turn.

Legolas laughed quietly, grateful for Orophin's tactic. "I understand now your caution Haldir; if one of my kin were injured thus I am not sure what I would do. What do you then suggest we do to reach Merry?"

"We will wait until dark, for human eyesight is poorest at night, and we will be able to move more freely."

This agreed, they continued along the riverbank until the last mile where they took to the trees. They waited for the light to fade seated in the treetops, with the cabin just in sight through the thick leaves of the sycamore, which seemed very pleased with itself and chattered like a squirrel with Legolas much to the amusement to the three brothers.

"Do all trees greet you as enthusiastically as this one?" Orophin whispered.

"Yes. I may live in a palace but I am more at home in their branches than in feather beds, my father has the same effect but more so, the plants and animals also speak with him."

"I did not know that was possible!" Orophin said.

"I have seen Lord Celeborn do that before and I know that Lord Elrond also has the talent," Haldir added.

"Ah! I'm not sure I would like such a talent," Orophin mused. "It would be dreadful to be assailed with voices wherever one went."

"It's not like that and besides how should we know any different? I for one find it more disturbing when all is quiet; I find it a comfort to hear the trees whisper all around me. Do you not hear them, surely you must?"

"We all hear the trees," Rúmil confirmed. "But we have to concentrate to understand what they say."

Under the full cover of darkness, four shadowed figures moved silently towards the cabin. Light still spilled out through a curtained window and noise from inside told them the occupants were awake. Legolas moved to the centre of the window and pressing his face flat against the pane he was just able to see through where the curtain was not properly drawn.

He made out an elderly man who moved out of his line of sight to reveal a woman slightly younger, though not by much, seated beside a crudely fashioned bed. A bowl rested in her lap and periodically she dunked a cloth in it, rung it out and worked it over the figure on the bed.

As Legolas watched he heard a familiar moan and caught the scent of Merry, which had been heightened by the moisture. The woman rose and moved to replace the now dirty water allowing Legolas a clear view of the figure on the bed.

Merry – I've found you!" He breathed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

To Be Continued

Frodo is in the Chair this time, (with occasional interruptions) to answer all your notes and queries:-

Neige: Merry! Aragorn! No! Please make Merry better soon!
Frodo: I think Aragorn is busy helping me right now!

Earelwen: wow I am lost for words! this is simply amazing! To find a collection of such great authors all writing one of the best stories I have ever read is truly a rare and wonderful thing.
Frodo: On behalf of all us, we thank you for your glowing praise and accolades!
Earelwen: To Frodo (BOTOR) - I love you! I am sending many hugs, kisses and bottles of dwarvish ale straight your way.
Frodo: I look forward to receiving all those things.
Earelwen To Sam - You are so cute!
Sam: Ahem, are you sure about that Miss?
Earelwen: To Merry - Please don't die!
Merry: Can't m-make promises – am f-feeling a bit…arrrghhh!
Earelwen: To Pippin - I know you'll get out and find your Merry again.
Pippin: Oh good – I've been so worried!

Shirebound: Omigosh, I'm exhausted on their behalf.
Frodo: Sorry to hear we've worn you out, my dear. Here, have some tea.

smalldiver: You're all cruel! I mean, Merry was so close to getting help, and you made everything worse! And Pippin's so brave!
Frodo: Now, Merry is being well looked after by kind people. I don't see the cruelty in that. And yes, Pippin, is very brave, but don't forget that Ringbearers need hugs, too.

my-fool-of-a-took: poor little pippin. the splinter thing was so cute! i just want to hug him!Frodo: As I just said to Smalldiver, yes, poor little Pippin is so cute, but the Bearer of The One Ring is cute, too, and also needs hugs.

melilot hill: what was Merry thinking, trying to get away from Legolas? Now we still don't know if he's going to be all right!
Frodo: Merry can, indeed, be a rash and foolish young hobbit. I have tried my best, as his older cousin, to teach him better ways, but he is also stubborn and single-minded. It's too bad he can't learn to be more like his Cousin Frodo.
Merry: Me rash! I'm not the one stuck in a bog!

hobbitsandkilts: Now Merry what were you thinking? You're scaring poor Legolas. Poor Pippin hugs
Frodo: Really, Merry, what WERE you thinking? Yes, yes, everyone wants to hug Pippin.

Samwise The Strong: Hmm... Pippy get's washed. Poison suspected. Pippy gets a sliver. wood suspected.
Frodo: Fortunately, Pippin is in very capable hands at the moment (and out of my hair, might I add).

Lindalëriel: "I have a splinter in my toe!" That is so cute, so Pippish! Smiles!
Frodo: You have a lovely smile, my dear.

Kimby: Merry and Pip are still apart
But at least Pip knows Merry's alive
Gimli is rebuked by his da in a dream
And has Legolas taken a dive? [snip]
Frodo: Praise in poetry! My dear Kit5, you are a wonder among wonders! You must sing this one in the Hall of Fire!

fliewatuet: Hugs to Pippin and anyone else,
Frodo: Thank you VERY MUCH for my hug!

Elwyna: This was the best chapter yet! Boromir was acting most admirable, manly AND compassionate. So, snaps to Boromir!
Frodo: Boromir is operating under instructions to always be as manly as possible. I'm glad he's succeeding.
Boromir: Snaps? Are you questioning my sexual persuasion? Oh, just a moment. I have consulted my American Slang Dictionary under the heading "90's" and I see that it is the same as giving a slap on the shoulder in congratulations. I can accept that with dignity. Thank you. It is very hard work being stuck with an almost adult hobbit and a somewhat mule headed dwarf but, well, one of us had to stay behind to make this part of the story hunky so they chose me. Lucky me. Legolas gets to hang with his buddies and Aragorn gets a bath. Hrmph.

ringmarciel: Oh and poor Merry.
Frodo: Yes, poor Merry. Might I point out that I am rather in a precarious situation myself at the moment?

Wisteria: Great job! So, who's Gollum? Excellent use of S's.
Frodo: The extraordinarily talented Mlle Llinos filled in for Gollum at this point, and did, indeed, make excellent use of the letter "s".

Ninie: But Boromir needs more love! Every character need more love! Except Gollum.
Frodo: Even Gollum needs a little love now and again.
Boromir: I heartily agree about more love, Ninie. Though at your tender age, I feel I will need to decline your tempting offer, if indeed it was an offer. After all, there are laws in my father's country about that. Though is does bolster one's ego... Je suis passionné au sujet des hobbits.

Mystarri: Poor Merry, I thought the Elves were his only chance of survival. Legolas rocks in this story! And great job with Gimli, most people completely ignore him!
Frodo: Legolas quite agrees with you that he rocks. And I quite agree with you that Gimli does not always get his fair share of recognition. I also agree with you that hobbits are amazing. Especially we Bagginses.
Merry: No I'll take a bit of tlc wherever I can get it – you wouldn't believe the competition round here for attention.

OceanSoul: To the person who picked Merry out of the river; Who are you? :
Frodo: We shall just have to wait and see about that person who picked Merry out of the river, now, won't we?

pebbles: I can't take much more!
Frodo: Strength, friend, strength!

Pip4: K'Merry I know you're probably not very coherent at the moment but why?!?!? Legolas is looking for you and you nearly gave me a heart attack rolling down the hill into the water like that. Just remember guys that Gollum still has a part to play.
I hope Gimli's wrong.
Frodo: Thank you for giving Merry that talking-to -- I think he took it quite seriously. And thanks for the tips on Gollum -- he is wily and able to do much ill. I hope Gimli's wrong too.

Anso the Hobbit: Sam and Frodo are exhausted, but are brave and find ways to make it just one more step. What will happen to Merry?
Frodo: Yes, Sam and Frodo ARE brave, aren't they, Anso? So very kind of you to notice! Never fear, help is on the way to Merry!

domstygerr: Legolas, I love you for taking such good care of Merry. But Merry my love, what are you thinking? Gimili, love, do not despair, you have not failed anyone. Boromir, you must keep the faith in your camp, Gollum, best watch yourself.
Frodo: Clearly you are a wise and caring advisor. I hope everyone takes your words to heart.

Ice Ember: Stupid Gollum, I will kill you! And your little warg, too!
Frodo: Please remember that Gollum too may have a part to play in these affairs before the end. I hope you are enjoying the story.

lindahoyland: This plot is full of wonderful twists and turns !
Frodo: I hope you continue to enjoy the wonderful twists and turns to come!

auntiemeesh: Merry was quite noble and self-sacrificing, attempting to off himself to save his friends, but really, just a trifle melodramatic as well. I'm so glad that Pippin got his cry out and Boromir was able to reassure!
Frodo: Merry can be a trifle melodramatic at times. I think it's the Took in him. I, too, was glad that Boromir was there to comfort Pippin.

FantasyFan: This story gets a 503 (angst rating) at this point, which is pretty high. I may have to invent a new category for these multi-author things. In canon, when Merry isn't there to lead, Pippin learns how. But when Pippin isn't there to comfort, Merry falters. It seems like the same things are going on here. Playing with canon is fun, but Gollum needs to be there for Frodo in Mordor - you wouldn't mess with that, would you?
Frodo: Wow, a 503 on the angst factor. I'm impressed. And you are quite correct in your analysis of Merry and Pippin's relationship -- Merry relies just as much on his little cousin as Pippin does on his big cousin. Your concerns about Gollum are well founded, but fear not! By the end of our adventure, everything will be properly in place. Contractual agreements and all that.

Hyperactive Forever: Frodo is being smart!
Frodo: Frodo IS so smart, isn't he? Did I mention that you are my favorite reviewer? I'm sorry to hear that you are hyperactive forever -- I took Pippin to a healer for the same thing and she gave him some special herbs.