Reforging the Fellowship

By Michael Weyer

Part three: Fangorn

It took less than half an hour for them to reach the site Eomer had told them of. They had seen the smoke from a mile away and urged their steeds forward. They saw a massive pile of dead bodies stacked on top of one another and aflame. The head of one Uruk, his face marked in pain, was stuck on a pike before the pile as a warning.

The group quickly dismounted and headed toward the pile, all wearing faces of grave concern. Gimli moved forward and headed to the pile, carefully pushing through the remains with his axe. He paused and picked up a small piece of cloth. He turned and lifted it up to the others. "It's one of their wee belts," he choked out.

Boromir closed his eyes in pain. Legolas and Arwen bowed their heads in unison and whispered prayers in Elvish. Aragon kicked a helmet on the ground and let out a long cry of agony as he sank to his knees.

"We failed them," Gimli whispered.

"No," Boromir sighed. "I failed them." He rubbed at his face. "They're dead because of me. I should have fought harder." He looked to Arwen. "You should have let me die back there."

Arwen pursed her lips. "I would have saved you no matter what." She leaned forward to touch his arm. "You fought bravely and what happened is not your fault. You must understand…"

"A hobbit lay here."

They all turned to where Aragon knelt on the ground, his fingers trailing along a small pair of tracks. "And another." He carefully moved forward, his eyes focusing on something only he could see. "Their bonds were cut," he said as he reached toward a pair of ropes and held them up.

Everyone was watching as he continued, hope rising within them. "There were many horses, a battle but they managed to escape. They raced forward into…" He stopped, his eyes gazing up to the place the tracks led to. "Into Fangorn Forest."

"Fangorn," Gimli echoed, his eyes focused on the trees. "What madness drew them there?"

"It does not matter," Boromir decalred as he came up behind Gimli. "We must follow and find them."

"Mind yourselves," Aragon stated as he began to march in. "The few who have entered Fangorn and exited have a difficult time talking of it."

"The same has been said of Lothlorien," Legolas pointed out.

"Not the same," Arwen chimed in. "Even we have heard of the dangers within Fangorn and have given it a wide berth."

"Stick together," Aragon ordered as he led the way inside. "And keep your eyes and ears sharp. There is no telling where threats may come in this place."

They made their way carefully through the dark path, shafts of light barely illuminating the darkness. Aragon followed the paths of the hobbits, which led to a small dried-up stream. Gimli's hand brushed on a leaf and he stopped and peered at the dark blotches on it. He reached over to touch them and lifted them to his mouth. His tongue moved to taste it and then spat it out. "Orc blood."

Boromir's gaze was focused on the trees and so he did not see what lay before him until his foot stepped on something soft and squishy. He looked down and started as he saw a mass of broken flesh beneath him. "And this may be the orc it came from."

They moved around him to stare at the creature, its main torso seemingly flattened along with part of its skull. "Did it fall?" Gimli asked.

Boromir shook his head. "No. No, it almost looks as if it was…stepped on."

Aragon's eyes trailed along the ground and he saw a series of indentions on the floor. "These are strange tracks," he noted with puzzlement.

Boromir's eyes glanced about warily. "No one knows the creatures who live in this place. Fewer still know of their temper."

Gimli was nervous now as he took a deep breath. "The air is so close in here."

Legolas turned around, his eyes sweeping around the forest. "This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory. And anger."

A low rumble went through the trees and everyone was on alert, Gimli raising his axe up. "Gimli!" Aragon hissed. "Lower your axe."

The dwarf was puzzled then nodded in understanding and let his axe drop a bit. Legolas smiled thinly at him. "We elves taught the trees to speak long ago."

"What do trees have to talk about?" Gimli grumbled. "Besides the constistency of squirrel droppings?"

Legolas suddenly broke away, moving to a small hill as he barked in Elvish. Aragon and Arwen were on alert as they moved behind him. Gimli and Boromir exchanged confused looks as they came up. "What is it?" Aragon asked.

"The White Wizard approaches." Legolas' head tilted slightly to the side.

A chill went through the five, each straightening and hands slowly moving to weapons. "Do not let him speak," Aragon whispered. "He will put a spell on us." His hand gripped the hilt of his sword. "We must be quick."

Each one tensed and readied themselves. Aragon nodded and they all spun around, swords and other weapons yanked out and ready. A figure had appeared behind him and seemed to be enveloped in a blinding white light that extended outward, illimunating the entire forest. Gimli hurled one of his throwing axes at the same instant Boromir threw a dagger. With a quick sweep of the staff in his hands, the figure knocked them both away. Legolas fired an arrow but that too was blocked. Arwen hefted her sword but then gasped in pain as her hands, despite the gloves on them, felt a burst of heat. Similar cries from Boromir and Aragon indicated they felt the same and the three dropped their swords as if they were on fire.

They all stared at the figure who stood on a small ledge of rock before them, his staff standing at his side. "You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits," he said in a voice that carried a strange echo.

"Where are they?" Aragon demanded.

"They passed this way," the figure replied. "Day before yesterday. They met someone they…did not expect. Does that please you?"

"Who are you?" Aragon whispered.

The figure seemed to smile at the question.

"Show yourself, Saruman!" Boromir yelled. "Or is the mighty wizard too afraid to show his true face to us?"

The figure stepped forward, the light seeming to fade until they saw him clearly. He was an old man dressed in white robes with a long flowing beard. But the face was not the craggy and dark features of Saruman but the kind and wise face of…

"Mithrandir," Arwen whispered, her eyes wide. She looked to the stunned Boromir. "You…you said he was…"

"He was," the man stuttered. "He…we saw….How…"

"It cannot be," Aragon whispered.

Gimli and Legolas both bowed, the elf going to one knee. "Forgive me. I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman," the wizard stated. "Or rather Saruman as he should have been."

Aragon still couldn't believe what he was seeing. "You fell."

The wizard's mood darkened, his eyes gazing in rememberence. "Through fire. And water. From the lowest pit to the highest step, I fought and he fought with me. Until finally, I was able to throw my enemy down. Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time. But it was the end. I felt life within me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf," Aragon said as the man came off the step.

"Gandalf?" He frowned and then nodded. "Yes…yes, that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey." He smiled and bowed his head. "I am Gandalf the White. And I come to you now, at the turn of the tide."

He looked to Arwen, his eyebrows rising. "My lady," he said with a bow of his head. "I am rather surprised to see you joining us."

"It is good to see you live still," the elf replied. "My father would be quite happy."

Gandalf smiled thinly. "Well, we'll see about that." He nodded to the others before lifting his staff and stepping away. "One part of your quest is over but there is still more to come."

"But Merry and Pippin," Boromir exclaimed. "We have come far in search of them."

"They are well," Gandalf said. "They are with Treebeard and the Ents."

"The Ents?" Arwen gasped. "There are still Ents in the world?"

"I thought them only legend, if they ever existed," Gimli said.

"They do exisit," Gandalf said. "And the hobbits will be safe with Treebeard, the wisest of their number. But now, we must hurry to Edoras with all speed." He began to march back through the forest, the others quickly falling behind.

"We heard it goes ill in the North," Boromir said, still trying to wrap his head around Gandalf's sudden return.

The wizard nodded. "Saruman has his grip on the King. It will be no easy task to drive him away."

"Then we have traveled all this way for nothing," Gimli grumbled. "We end up wandering this dark, dank, ugly------"

A loud rumble went out as the trees shook.

"Charming! I mean, quite charming forest!" the dwarf quickly said as Boromir chuckled.

Gandalf paused to glance about with a wistful smile. "It was not mere chance that sent Merry and Pippin here. There is a power that has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche."

"In one way you have not changed, old friend," Aragon said as he leaned in. "You still speak in riddles."

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened in an age. The Ents are going to wake up..and find they are strong." Gandalf smiled back and then waved his staff at Gimli. "So mind your tongue, Master Dwarf!"

As he turned away, Boromir heard Gimli mutter under his breath. "This new Gandalf is even grumpier than the old one."

The group exited the forest to find their horses waiting for them. "We will have to make room on my horse for you," Boromir stated.

"No need," Gandalf said. He lifted his head and let out a low whistle that echoed through the air. There was a pause and then the sound of hoofbeats. Everyone turned as a magnificent white stallion came romping over the hills toward them. It was the most amazing steed any of them had ever seen.

"That is one of the Meras," Legolas breathed. "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

"This is Shadowfax," Gandalf said as the horse came up to them. "He has been my faithful friend through many an adventure."

Boromir's smile brightened. "Sauron may have Nine Black Riders but we have one more powerful than they. The White Rider!"

"Gandalf the White I am now," the wizard said as he mounted his horse. "And the enemy shall soon know that. But now, to Edoras!" He kicked and Shadowfax led him away. The others soon followed, the new swarm of horses racing toward their new destination.