Everything about this moment was vile. The smell in the air, the feeling of loss and failure in my chest, the horrid taste in my mouth from when I had been sick to my stomach by the whole thing a minute ago. The silence that stretched out after Aragorn's pained, frustrated yell. There was nothing I could do. Nothing that any of us could do.

I was glad Fali was not here to see this. She had taken to Merry and Pippin when they were children. Whilst others found them a bother, she had always thought them amusing and adored their uncanny ability of getting themselves into trouble. She loved the mischief in their eyes.

They had stayed that way until the end it seemed…they had got themselves into trouble one last time…but this time they had not managed to escape it just in time, the way they always had before. There was no narrow and lucky avoidance of punishment for them this time. This time consequences had followed them, and had been far from merciful.

There had been plenty of times I had rolled my eyes at how they escaped justice, but now I could only lower my eyes to the ground and feel a great sadness well up inside me. I felt so sorry for them both.

I closed my eyes, shutting everything out. I could not cope with everyone else's grief along with my own. When my mind at last went blank I was at last able to sort through everything.

Gandalf had been lost in Moria. Yet, I lived.

Boromir had been lost on the along the shore of the river. Yet, I lived.

Merry and Pippin had been lost on the edges of Rohan. Yet, I lived.

I felt so relieved to be alive, and so grieved for those who weren't…and ashamed, for living when they died. What made me any more valuable than them?

I clutched at the otter. Mother had given it to me as my symbol when I was born. In the nymphian culture it stood for good fortune. That was why I was still alive…good fortune. It was probably the reason why Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were still alive as well, the odds against us being as harsh as they were.

I opened my eyes again. The three men stood beside themselves, each taking the loss of the hobbits privately. I walked up to the burning pile of bodies, my eyes avoiding those of the decapitated orc still, and took a fistful of ashes from the ground. There was no way to tell if they were Merry's and Pippin's but I did not have the heart to search deeper into the pile. I muttered quietly a prayer for them, the one that Mother had taught my siblings and I, and released the ash to the wind.

The old practise relieved me a little.

"We failed them." Gimli sighed, grieved.

"We tried." I reminded him. I turned to Aragorn and touched his shoulder. "Aragorn, perhaps it's best we move on from here."

"To where?" Gimli asked.

"Anywhere else." I sighed. "There is no use staying here much longer."

"A hobbit lay here, and the other." Aragorn's attention was fixed on the ground.

I saw the flattened grass where he stared, pressed down like when a deer sleeps in a meadow. They died there, I thought, grimly.

"They crawled." Aragorn's word interrupted the thought. I stood, my heart surging with hope again as the Ranger followed the tracks on the ground. They moved, and hence they were alive. My mind tried to be reasonable. The captain of the horse-lords had said they left none alive. Merry and Pippin would have tried to escape, surely, but the chances of them managing to do so?

"Their hands were bound…" Aragorn traveled along the ground, following the trail of the hobbits. He stopped, and grabbed an fraying piece of rope. "Their bonds were cut." He announced.

It returned, as sudden as one of Master Gandalf's great fireworks.

Hope.

Merry and Pippin's luck had not stopped after all! If they had managed to cut their bonds and get up from the ground…and with just enough of a fray, and a cover of darkness…it burst and burned. Hope. Luck. So long as we had those, it was enough.

"There ran this way…and they were followed." He stopped at last, and exclaimed "The tracks lead away from the battle! They escaped into Fangorn Forest."

"Fangorn?" Gimli asked in surprise. "What madness drove them there?"

I stared up at the very dense forest in front of us. I smiled, and actually let out a single chuff of laughter. Oh hope…oh sheer luck…such uplifting things! I would have to blindly trust the hope I now had for their lives but so be it. I would do so.

"Merry and Pippin are the maddest hobbits alive!" I grinned. "And the very luckiest…it seems they have kept up their talent for escaping trouble against all odds." I prepared to run straight into the wood. "Come on, let's hunt them down, they're likely hiding somewhere in there."

Gimli took hold of my shoulder and wrenched me back. "Now wait a minute there lad…Fangorn is not the sort of forest you run into without a care in the world."

I stared back at it for a moment, and felt an eerie feeling come over me. Inside Fangorn forest the trees were tall and ancient, and the paths in shadows, for the canopy was so dense. I swallowed, a gust of air carrying to my ears the sounds of creaking limbs, though I could see nothing moving.

"Gideon is right." Aragorn said. "We have come too far to forsake the hobbits now." He pulled the blade that had once been broken from his scabbard. "Be armed, we do not know what awaits us among the trees."

He took the first brave step onto Fangorn's soil. Legolas and Gimli took out their own weapons and followed him. I took a steadying breath. Hope and luck….hope and luck…it was all I needed, I reminded myself. I collected the remains of my moment of bravado, pulled out my own blade and entered the shade of the forest.

It smelled like earth and moss and rain. Quite pleasant actually, and if the shade from the canopy had not been so great, and a bit more light was able to slip past the leaves, I would have liked to sit along the roots and write more in the old journal I had brought along. The occasional creaking sound echoed from within the forest, and I tried to ignore it. It was so odd, the wind was not enough to stir the branches and yet the forest creaked and moaned at times like it was in a gale.

I left the tracking of Merry and Pippin to Aragorn. Though I had been told no orc was left alive, I had also been informed that the hobbits were killed as well, and that had not been true. Gimli found orc blood on foliage a moment later, which only proved my theory that it was best to stay quiet. "The air is too close here…" Gimli said.

"This forest is old…very old…full of memory and anger."

"Anger?" I asked. All that I knew of Fangorn came from myth. To me it had been but a name in texts. It was said the Valar Yvannah had walked here many a time in the beginning of the world, here was where she brought life and crafted the trees. From what I knew she was a gentle soul, and the place of her creation would have been on as well. Some tree groaned from far away again.

I sighed, shifting my fingers along the hilt of my blade. "It does sound as though it's upset." I spoke softly. "I've never heard trees creek and groan in so little wind before."

"They are speaking to one another." Legolas informed me.

"It sounds like it." I nodded.

"Gimli, lower your axe." Aragorn told the dwarf behind us, who was looking quite spooked by our surroundings. He did so, realising just as close his blade was to the bark of a tree. Surprisingly, the creeking of branches quieted after.

"Odd, that it should grow softer when his axe is lowered." I speculated.

"It would, they are alive." Legolas explained.

For a moment I was confused as I knew trees to be alive. But then when the soft creaks and whispers returned I understood that somehow these trees, ancient and touched by the Valar, were living, like people or animals.

I found the fact that they could be alive and speak to one another amazing, and felt a near boyish desire to go up and start speaking to one of the trees and listen if they should creak back at me. Smirking, I thought of how jealous Fali would be to hear that she had missed the chance to walk in a forest of living trees.

Fali, I hoped she was faring as well as I was. Likely, she was doing better.

Legolas spoke in elvish suddenly. I did not make out the words, but the tone of them was enough for me to understand. An alarm was being sounded, and something out there.

"What is it?" I asked, as Aragorn asked the same likely, his words in elvish.

"The White Wizard approaches." Legolas warned us.

"Do not let him speak!" Gimli whispered hurriedly.

"Yes" Aragorn nodded. "He will try to put a spell on us."

There was a tense moment in which Gimli gripped his axe and Aragorn's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Legolas's fingers drifted to his quiver, silently pulling out and arrow and fitting it to his bow. I was already holding fast to my blade. "Where?" I asked, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Does he know we are here?"

"Yes." Aragorn nodded. "I sense him now."

I tried to feel whatever it was in the air that told them the White Wizard could see us, but felt nothing. I did not know what to look for. I felt fear snaking it's way into me, it's claws gripping onto my heart. For a moment it was dreadful, feeling that sinking feeling that this could be it. The time when luck abandons you and your hope stops.

"We must be quick." Aragorn said, giving us a serious, determined look. I could his face well enough to determine what he wanted us to do. Turn to face the wizard and attack first. I swallowed, nerves starting play their usual role.

Before I could voice any protest or concern the three of them turned on their heels. White light burst before my eyes and I was blinded. My eyes narrowed to slits and I held up my sword defensively. I heard Legolas's arrow being knocked aside, and the hiss of hot metal, which was followed by a sound of pain from Aragorn. Had he been burned? By his own sword? The work of magic, I concluded. I swung out my own blade, though I did not clearly know in which direction with so much light in my eyes. I was cast from my hands, feeling as though it had been pulled by an unseen force.

Without a weapon I got down on my knees. Lower to the ground the light was not so intense and I managed to see past the source of the light. The wizard spoke then, asking if we were tracking two hobbits. The voice was unfamiliar at first.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded. The light began to dim and I could just make out the face of the wizard from my lowered place. It was not what I had expected. The lines of his face were softer…and grandfatherly almost.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday." The wizard spoke. "Does that comfort you?"

The words were spoken in a comforting way, not a taunting way like an evil-doer would have done. The light dimmed a degree more and I lost my breath when I say the face.

"Show yourself!" Aragorn commanded.

He was different now. Younger looking almost, though certainly still old. But many of the wrinkles had smoothed out a little and the darker spots on his face from aging had been washed away. His eyes had a new brightness to him. His hair had straightened itself out.

And everything about him was white now, from his robes to his beard.

I was first to see him, as he dimmed the light, first to smile, first to rise and look at him in awe. "Gandalf?" I asked. I did not know how such a thing could be true. Was I dreaming? Had this whole day thus far been the creation of my mind as I slept? Legolas was able to remember formalities where I did not, respectfully lowering himself to bended knee, and Gimli was quick to follow his example.

"It cannot be." Aragorn breathed. He too, was so surprised that he forgot respectful actions.

"I am sorry." Legolas admitted from behind us. "I mistook you for Sauron."

"Why? How?" I stuttered, trying to make sense of Gandalf before us, and so rejuvenated.

"I am Sarumon." Gandalf said, to which we raised our eyebrows. "Or rather Sarumon as he should have been."

"You fell!" Aragorn reminded him, his statement demanding a better explanation.

"Through fire…and water…" Gandalf's recollected. ""From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth."

"And you won?" I grinned, coming closer.

"I did. I threw down my enemy, and smote his ruin on the mountainside." He answered with a kind look. "But darkness took me….I was lost to thought and time." His smile waned momentarily. "But it was not the end. I felt light in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

"You are reincarnate?" I questioned. If that was the case than this was not Gandalf the Grey as we had known him. This was his soul, his memories…now encased in a new body. The same…yet different.

He nodded.

"Gandalf." Aragorn smiled at last, welcoming our friend.

"Yes, Gandalf. That is what they once called me." He smiled.

"And we will certainly call you again." I replied. "Gandalf the Gr-" I stopped short.

He smirked. "I am Gandalf the White." He corrected gently.

Finally I broke forward and embraced the wizard, too which he seemed surprised, but nevertheless I felt his hands on the back of my shoulders also.

"Come." He motioned to all of us. "We must be going, there is much that needs our attention."

"Are we going to find Merry and Pippin?" I asked.

"Hmm?" Gandalf glanced down at me as we walked our way back through Fangorn. "Oh no. Merry and Pippin are now in the protection of the Ents, the forest shepherds. I assure you that those two are safe. More safe than we shall soon be in fact…"

I frowned. "Where are we going then?"

"Edoras." Gandalf nodded, as he pulled on a grey garb to cover his white robes. "War is coming to Rohan. We must ride with all speed."

"Edoras!" Gimili exclaimed beside me. "That will be no short distance."

"Be thankful we were given the horses." I reminded him. "And that we are in the company of people tall enough to ride them." At this Gimli grumbled a little more.

"So long as we get out of this dark, dank, tree-infested…." At which there was much groaning and obvious protest from the roots and branches. "I mean…" Gimli stuttered quickly. "I mean charming, quite charming, forest." I smirked.

"See? He has grown to like you." I whispered to one tree as we paced and I could have sworn the creaking that followed almost sounded like laughter.

We reached the edge of Fangorn again, where the two horses waited for us. I gave them an apologetic look as it was probably burden enough to carry two people each. Gandalf whistled into the distance. Our collective gaze was directed over the hills. A horse, white as his robes, came running from out in the distance. Legolas claimed it to be one of the Mearas.

"Shadowfax." Gandalf held out his palm to the horse, and it came to him obediently. "He is lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers." He introduced us.

With three steeds now, we mounted and were riding over the plains. I soon grew used to the quick motion of riding on horseback, sitting behind Aragorn. It was rather peaceful with nothing but wind and motion and the sound of hooves beating steadily on the earth.

The day ended, the grass soaking in the orange glow of dusk. Gandalf said we should stop, for the horses needed rest, as did we. As soon as all the usual matters of setting up camp were seen to, I picked up some rope and began to make my way over to a tiny ravine flanked by bushes, where I suspected there to be some game fit to eat.

"Setting up snares again, Master Gideon?" Aragorn asked me. For the first time in days he looked relaxed, even smoking on a pipe a little.

"Yes." I nodded. "I won't be long."

"I'll come with you." He said, and rose and followed me down to the ravine, the two of us walking quietly along the way. I tied up snares along the shrubbery, Aragorn watching and finishing his dose of pipe weed, and then rose and turned to go back. "Wait…" Aragorn held up a hand and I paused.

"Yes?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Draw your sword." He said, drawing out his own.

"What? Why?"

"We're going to spar."

"Here? Now?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"You have much learning to do yet. And with war following us to Edoras I would rather you learn before and not during the fighting." I was still. "Draw your sword, Gideon." He prompted me again.

I did, and stood before him.

"Your grip is fine." He glanced at my hold. "That is good. Now your stance." I step my feet in the ground and held my blade ready. "Also good." He nodded. "Now begin."

I did not flinch or move, still standing prepared. After a few breaths Aragorn swung his blade striking close, but my stance allowing me to block him. "You did not attack." He pointed out.

"You didn't say to." I replied, sliding out of the block and moving away from him safely.

"I gave you the chance." There was another clash as our blades met in another block.

"Oh."

"Why did you not take it?"

"I assumed you would begin it all."

"When a chance arises it is best you take it." Aragorn swung again and I defended myself. "The one who attacks first is quick to gain an advantage." He swung once more, this time his blade turning so quickly in the air that I could not block it. Miraculously, he brought the metal within an inch of my clothes and stopped it there. The sword would have cut me in between two of my ribs. "Your defense is very good though." He said, drawing back and standing ready.

"How did you do that?" I asked. "I was sure you were going to cut across my leg."

"You will learn that eventually." Aragorn waved it aside. "Now stand ready…" I did . "Now we begin again." He said.

I remembered his words and stepped forward to try and strike at him. Aragorn caught my blade and cast me back. I quickly brought my sword up in time to stop his own attack. "You were slow." He said. Our blades collided in a few quick strikes before he caught me again, this time his sword stopping short of my back. "You need to move quickly, and surely." He stood again. "Stand ready."

I sighed, standing ready. This was like sparring with my brothers and Fali.

"Now begin." I charged quickly forward, and so did he. This caused me to soon fumble as I had not anticipated for him to come so quickly at me. My blade was taken from my hands and the sword once broken was pointed at my throat.

I was starting to prefer the blade as it had been, in shards.

"You were not ready for that." He observed. He drew back once more. "Now stand."

"How long are we going to keep this up?" I stood.

"Until I think you are ready."

"We do not have enough daylight left for that." I said.

"Yes, which is why this must become a daily ritual."

"Every day?" My stance dropped.

"You will thank me for it one day." He nodded. "Now stand."

I took up a ready stance once more. "Begin." Aragorn commanded.

I rushed forward, and met him this time. There was the soft clang of metal again and again as I fought to meet him strike for strike. The spar ended when he his onslaught become more aggressive, and his blade pointed at my stomach.

"You lose your focus when you feel threatened." He noted. "Still…a remarkable defense." He stood back, ready to spar again. "I wonder how you obtained such a skill."

"Luck, I suppose." I answered, and prepared to fight him again.