Chapter 6
"Gandalf!"
Pippin scrambled to his feet and launched himself at the wizard, wrapping himself up and clinging to his white robes.
"Gandalf, Gandalf, we lost you when you fell and that thing got you and, oh Gandalf, it's all my fault!"
He was sniffling despite himself and he buried his face in the wizard's midsection.
"Here now, here now!" Gandalf cried out with good-humored fondness that did much to sooth Pippin's heart, "No tears at this happy meeting, young Peregrin Took!"
Slowly, Gandalf managed to untangle Pippin from his robes and hold him at arm's length, smiling down at him.
"For you see, I was lost for a time, but now I seem to have been found. What happened in that other life is but the shadow of a dim dream, soon forgotten."
Merry finally found his voice, "But the tre… erm, Ent, called you the White Wizard. I thought you were Gandalf the Grey?"
"I was," Gandalf said, "And I am. But now I am the White Wizard also, or what they sung of in the beginning…"
He trailed off and his eyes glazed over as if he were in deep thought about things Pippin couldn't begin to fathom. But his reminiscence was interrupted by the rough sound of something that might have been a cough.
"Harum haroom, young Master Gandalf..."
Gandalf's eyes cleared and he grinned up at the Ent, "Treebeard, old friend, have these hobbits been quite troublesome?"
"Trouble? No, no trouble yet, but let us not be hasty," Treebeard harrumphed, "They have not yet had a full day to show themselves troublesome or not."
"I can assure you, Master Fangorn, the hobbits are true to their very cores, loyal to friends and faithful to our cause, though they are hasty to a fault most times."
He glanced down at Pippin and winked. Pippin smiled.
"And yet they seem to know much that has been hidden for many ages," Treebeard said, "They spoke of the Yavannacor."
"Ah! Melody is still about is she?" Gandalf said, his eyes alight with mischief, "Well, tell her to come out! They said in Lorien that I missed her by only half a day."
Merry and Pippin exchanged a look and then both hung their heads, toeing at the ground.
"Gandalf," Merry murmured, "She's not here."
Gandalf observed the carefully for a brief moment that felt a bit like an eternity.
"But you've seen her haven't you?" His expression was grave.
"They wouldn't bring her near the forest." Merry said.
"They had a horrible argument about it!" Pippin exclaimed.
"I guess now we know why, of course."
Merry looked up at Treebeard meaningfully.
"But one of them took her away," Pippin said, "He just took off across the wide open plain as fast as he could!"
"He went west," Merry added, "I think he was taking her to Isengard."
There was a breath of silence.
"That is strange news indeed…" Gandalf murmured finally, his eyes narrowed and turned west.
"Is it Calenhiril, Gandalf?" Treebeard asked.
The wizard nodded.
"Yes, my friend, I'm afraid it is."
Treebeard stood very straight and tall for a moment, his eyes fixed on a point in the far distance. Then he nodded to himself, cupped his hands around his mouth and let loose a loud horn call that reverberated through the woods like a deep trumpet. There was a moment of silence. Then there was a distant answering horn call… and another… and another!
Treebeard listened carefully as horn after horn echoed across the forest, then nodded his head in a decisive way.
"The Ents do nothing in haste. But Calenhiril is a matter of great importance, and if she is in Isengard, Entmoot must determine what is to be done, for Saruman no longer cares for growing things."
"Entmoot?" Pippin asked, turning to Gandalf who was smiling again, "Gandalf, what's that?"
"Why don't you go with him and find out, both of you. I have things to see to. Treebeard, I leave them in your care."
Abruptly, Gandalf turned and almost seemed to melt away into the trees. Pippin and Merry watched him go in slack-jawed surprise.
Treebeard haroomed behind them, pulling them out of their daze.
"Young Master Gandalf, always so hasty, so busy with his work!"
Out of nowhere, he scooped up the hobbits and put one on each shoulder. Pippin squeaked and clung to the branches sticking every which way from the top of his head.
"Come little hobbits!" He exclaimed cheerfully, "We are off to Entmoot!"
When the door creaked open, Mel barely looked up. Her side ached and her head was throbbing, she barely had enough conscious thought to close her fist around the Yavannacor. The sharp click of a staff on the stone cleared her thoughts considerably. Her head shot up and it made her vision swim, but when her eyes finally focused she saw Saruman standing just inside the door, looking smug.
"No need to hide any longer, Calenhiril," He cooed, "I know where the power lies. Let me see it."
He held out a hand. Mel clenched her fist tighter and shied away from him, whispering the first thing that popped into her mind.
"Go to hell."
He gave her a half smile, but dropped his arm, leaning on his staff and observing her like he would an interesting insect.
"You are sick," He declared, "Perhaps dying. You have at least one broken rib and that cut on your head is probably infected. It will enter your blood and find your heart soon enough. You are undernourished and dehydrated. Without me, you will die, in hours or days, it matters not. In the end, I will have your ring whether you give it to me or not. Are you going to throw away your life for a cause that is hopeless to begin with?"
Now it was Mel's turn to smile.
"No cause is hopeless, as long as there is one fool left to fight for it."
There was a pause. Saruman's face fell into a scowl.
"So you will die then?" She didn't bother to answer, "I was hoping that with rest and a little time, you would see reason. I want to help you, Calenhiril." Mel rolled her eyes, "But time is a luxury I am not willing to waste on your games any longer."
He lifted his hand and Mel's heart leapt to her throat.
"So now, Calenhiril, I shall have that ring of yours."
She braced herself and glowered at him.
"No." she whispered.
His eyes flashed, "Now, now, let's not make this more difficult than it must be."
Her nails bit into her palm and she hissed through clenched teeth.
"No."
"Very well."
He tensed his fingers, and the ring began to burn against her flesh. She gasped, but still she held on as tightly as she could. He couldn't take it. He wouldn't take it!
"No!" she shouted, pulling away, pressing her back into the wall, straining at her chains, "No, no, NO!"
She could feel the metal blistering her finger and the jewel was like a white hot coal burning a hole in her palm. Slowly the ring began to move, forcing her hand open inch by painful inch. Mel just screamed wordlessly now, tears of fear and anger and hatred pouring down her face. She caught the cruel smile warping the wizard's face. She snarled and yanked back against the pull she could feel on her hand, fighting him with everything she had in her. The wizard tilted his head, an eyebrow raised.
Then his wrist gave a sharp twist and the Yavannacor flew into his open palm.
It was like a piece of her soul had been ripped from her body. Some part of her brain that she hadn't even been aware of shut down, leaving behind only fuzzy static. Her thoughts were mostly an incoherent jumble, adrift in that rolling white noise. She lost all the strength she had mustered and sagged against the chains that held her. She felt nothing, no pain, no emotion, just the blank spot on her finger where the Yavannacor had rested comfortably for so long. Gradually, the emptiness seemed to spread until it covered everything in her. What was she supposed to do now? The shackles suddenly released her and she sank to the ground, barely aware of their absence. She felt so lost, so helpless, so alone.
She heard Saruman speak like an echo of a voice in another room.
"Because you defied me, you will die slowly. No one will come to you again. You will die alone in this room, knowing that everything and everyone you fought for is doomed. That is my punishment."
She didn't notice when he left. She only knew that he was gone. And that the Yavannacor had gone with him. Everything was gone. She curled up against the wall and concentrated on making herself as small as possible. She cradled her hand, rubbing at the blisters on her fingers, forcing herself to feel the pain, to keep from falling into the senseless hysteria that threatened to overwhelm her.
Finally, one lucid thought pulled itself out of her jumbled brain.
I have lost everything. And now I'm going to die.
She began to sob.
Deep in Fangorn Forest the trees began to rumble. The sound startled Pippin out of his dozing dreams of the Shire. At first he thought it was the Ents, still conversing in the clearing. But as he fought off the fog of sleep, he realized it was not the tree shepherds making the racket. The trees themselves were groaning.
"Merry!" He whispered, shaking his cousin, "Merry, wake up!"
Merry groaned and flopped over, "What is it, Pip? Are the Ents fighting?"
"No, something's happened," Pippin said, eyeing the forest moving and shuddering around them, "The trees aren't happy about it."
"Hum haroom, they sense the disturbance of power from Isengard," Treebeard muttered, coming up behind them, "The Yavannacor has been parted from its keeper."
Pippin's eyes widened, "Its keeper…"
"Mel!" Merry yelped, leaping to his feet, "He's got Mel! He's taken her ring! We've got to do something!"
Treebeard leaned back, waving a branch-like hand in the air, "Now don't be hasty, Master Meriadoc."
"Hasty?!" Merry exclaimed, "Mel is our friend! She needs our help! Who knows what he's done to her! How can you just stand around and talk?"
"The Calenhiril plays an important role in the order of the forest, little Shireling. We do not take her capture lightly!" Treebeard said, annoyance tinging his tone.
The two hobbits took a couple of steps back with the force of his words. Treebeard noticed and his branches shivered as if to shake off his anger.
"But you have to understand, young hobbits," He said, much more gently, "It takes a long time to say anything in Old Entish. So we Ents never say anything unless it is worth taking a long time to say."
Then Treebeard turned and walked away. Merry watched him go with frustrated eyes, and then huffed, stomping away in the other direction. Pippin glanced back and forth between them for a few moments, before he sighed and glanced at the trees, still shuddering and moaning as if in a great storm.
"I just hope Mel is alright." He whispered.