AN: I hope you will forgive my procrastination on this story. Things just kept coming up and I just kept putting this on the back burner. Well, now I have a few hours to kill, so let's see if I can't get Miss Ivy and the gang into a little bit of trouble now. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 5

Ivy smiled softly as she watched her hobbit companions doze like a pile of puppies in the seemingly giant, human sized bed. Strider had taken charge and moved them all into a new room across the way from the Pony's hobbit quarters. Exhausted, the hobbits had fallen asleep quickly, but after taking the time to wash the drying mud from her feet Ivy had found herself unable to do the same. Resigned to a sleepless night before they moved out at dawn, Ivy had curled herself into the chair opposite the ranger's to watch the still night outside the window's glass. When Strider's voice cut through the silence moments later, surprise lanced through Ivy like a knife in the dark.

"What could make a hedge witch leave her territory? In my years as a ranger, I have seen nothing but the direst of situations force one to move beyond her boundaries. In fact," his dark eyes glittered in the darkness as they sought out Ivy's," I have seen hedge witches die rather than abandon their sacred charges." For a moment, Ivy felt her heart constrict as she remembered the gut wrenching pain she had experience when she had left her beloved woods behind. Even now, she could feel her bond with the trees faintly pulling at her soul. When she answered, all this showed in her eyes, but her husky voice was as dry and as arch as any noble wizard's.

"Hedge witches are soul-bound to their territories, Strider. To forsake the lands she is sworn to protect, a rouge hedge witch risks madness and lingering death." Ivy nodded solemnly in the darkness. "Only a situation that threatened all of Middle Earth could force a true hedge witch to leave her land willingly." The ranger seemed about to push further for answers when Frodo suddenly sat up in bed, gasping for air.

"They're here," Strider whispered.

At dawn, the travelers led by Strider set forth into the wild after a quick breakfast of hard cheese and journey bread. If Ivy understood her hobbits, this breakfast was considered to be not enough to feed a sick child. Since her stomach was feeling a bit sour anyway, Ivy offered Pippin the rest of her share.

"Are you sure, Miss Ivy? You didn't eat much." Ivy smiled and gathered up her traveling pack.

"Don't worry about me. Remember? I'm kind of small for a human anyway." Pippin smiled at her mention of Merry's jest.

"Aw, don't sell yourself…er…short. You've still got some growing to do, Miss Ivy." Soon they didn't have any breath left to banter as Strider set a grueling pace for Rivendell. Only Sam managed to seem happy at the mention of seeing Elves.

It was Strider who noticed Ivy's decline as daylight began to fade. For a moment he almost thought that perhaps her gender was to blame for her lagging strength, but he'd long ago learned from a certain Elven female that to underestimate the opposite sex was to leave oneself open for unpleasant surprises. Luckily, they reached Amon Sûl on schedule, and as the others set up camp Strider was able to have a word with the ill girl. Her face was gray and pinched as she leaned heavily against one of the ancient watchtower's pillars.

"What ails you, hedge witch?" Strider winced as his voice came out harshly, but his worries over Frodo's burden weighed upon his mind. Ivy's eyes were glazed over when she turned her head to answer.

"The White Evil rapes my forest. Every ax blow, every lick of flame, I can feel through my link with my trees. The Forests…of…Isengard are…dying."

"Isengard? What do you know of…?" Strider only then noticed that the figure before him had slumped into a faint. Saving his questions for another time, Strider quickly picked up the girl and carried her over to lay her beside the already sleeping Frodo. After arming the remaining hobbits, Strider decided to search for a bit of the athelas plant while he went to scout out the surrounding area.

He could swallow all of Middle Earth and still hunger for more. He'll consume you if he can. Never trust the White Hand of Saruman, Ivilina.

"Mama?" The words flowing through Ivy's dreams were too low pitched to make sense, but their warning was a like a shot of fire within her veins. The awful feeling that throbbed through her body originated in one area, the dark taint upon her skin that forever marked her as being tied to evil. How she hated being reminded of that spot, but her mind refused to release Ivy from her tormented sleep. Weakly, she called again for her mother, but deep down she realized that her only protector was forever beyond her reach.

"Mama!" Ivy bolted upright, one hand groping for something to defend herself with. Instead, she managed to grasp a warm shoulder that sent the body part's owner sitting up just as abruptly as she had. Periwinkle and blue eyes regarded each other in puzzlement.

"Ah, good timing, Miss Ivy. You woke Frodo and you're both just in time for some tomatoes, sausage, and some nice crispy bacon!" Beside Ivy, Frodo began to yell about putting out the fire. It belatedly occurred to her just what a beacon a fire would make so high up on these ruins. Just what had seen the beacon, well, the sudden wailing in the night sounded all too familiar…

AN: All right, folks. I tried to make this chapter extra long, at least for my style, so I hope that you aren't too disappointed. Reviews are the coin of the realm, so let me know what you think. Thanks for stopping by. I'll try to get the next chapter up and out a bit sooner next time too. Later!