Chapter Four: Drautdil and The Spawn of Ungoliant

It had taken time – sorrow's frustration had taken more in change – but they reached home eventually. The sun had all but set, and Radagast lit the way, soft blue light shining from the spearhead atop his staff. The great tree of The Brown Wizard stood before them, in its own miniature glade untouched by the poison of the forest. He tried not to think of King Rhovanion, to be content in his experience and not obsess over whatever hidden narrative had played out in the royal glade. His mind was drawn away by the feeling of Tuila rubbing affectionately at his hip. Radagast looked down at her and smiled; her eyes showed she knew his heart was in flux, and more than that – she knew why.

The squirrel had been unable to look at him since they left the glade. Her Majesty strut along, pretending as if no complex emotions existed at all. Thond seemed genuinely oblivious. But, Radagast was not concerned, not 'til he reached the basket and noticed Manwe perched on a small tree far away. The falcon was fidgeting, ruffling its feathers, shooting its eyes up and down; they had sensed something. But, Radagast had not the patience to be cautious nor the fear to be careful, and at this moment, too much pride to dare inquire. So, he grabbed the rope and hoisted the party up.

As they crossed the threshold into the house, Radagast immediately felt as if something was wrong. Hitching the basket and stepping off, he signalled the animals to wait there. He brightened the light coming from his staff, and with his head, gestured for the squirrel to get off. For the first time since the glade, the squirrel looked at him. With a fiery need, the nameless squirrel refused. Radagast nodded before whispering back to the others: "Stay."

Stepping as quietly as a heavy man with a heavy staff and a heavy soul could, The Brown Wizard crept through the house. He shone his staff into each room, words of abjuration ready on his tongue. But, through bedroom and library and toilet, he found nothing.

It was then he turned, feeling the presence as keenly as a naked limb caught in a cold breeze. But there was no shroud to shield it, no window to close. As he stepped towards the kitchen, he saw, amongst the stacks of shadow and half perceived shapes, a beast beyond the windowsill, blurred by starless sky. Its very presence seemed to make monsters of the pottery, summon ghouls amidst the shelves, and weave foul words into every simple sound.

Radagast brightened his staff once more, finally giving form to the invader. An onyx carapace, both reflecting and consuming the light, with eight twitching eyes and eight twitching legs, flinched on the counter just below the windowsill. Mucous sputtered from the creature's fang-riddled maw, as it scuttled backwards, pained by the light.

Radagast quickly looked around him, but he saw nor sensed any other enemy in his home. Pushing his staff forward and focusing its light, he spoke as the spider near screamed. "You have come here alone? An overconfident scout."

The spider spluttered, before speaking in the black speech, a tongue The Brown Wizard had not heard nor spoken in centuries. "Not a scout," it whined. "I have come to talk. To make diplomacy." Its voice was harsh and thin, muddied but forceful, like rope being pulled over stones in the wood. "Please!"

Radagast pulled back his staff and dimmed its light, more out of shock than anything else. He had not expected it to speak, let alone to claim it had come to talk. He put his staff at ease in his left hand, but gripped the hatchet on his belt with his right. Daring to converse, The Brow Wizard brought himself to utter words of the black speech. As he spoke, he felt them burn his lips.

"Talk about what?"

The spider regained its footing in the easing of the light. It even seemed to bow its head for a moment, as if trying to show respect. "I… am Drautdil… and I come with a message; we wish to aid you, Aiwendil."

It had been a long time since The Brown Wizard had heard that name, and never from a spider. In fact, Radagast began to wonder if he had ever spoken to a spider before. "To aid me… How?"

The spider crept a few feet closer, perching on the very edge of the countertop. "The goblins… You cannot defeat them with ease or certainty… But we can make your victory both easy and certain."

Radagast cocked an eye, almost chuckling. "And what would you want in return?"

"We will remove the goblins, and when all is over, you will plead our case to the Istari."

Radagast's expression turned solemn and concerned. This spider knew more than spider's should – or The Brown Wizard knew less of spiders than he thought. "So, the very spawn of shadow wish to be redeemed?"

Drautdil crept even closer, reaching across to the table and climbing onto it. "Is it so hard to believe those born in horror would long for its end? You should understand how things may long to reject their original purpose."

Radagast stepped towards the spider on his table. "But why now? What has changed, what have you learned?"

Drautdil hesitating, trying not to wince, but showing their anxiety all the same.

"Well?" pushed Radagast.

"The same thing you have learned."

The Brown Wizard stepped even closer, leaning his staff on the wall behind him and bringing his face less than a foot from the spider's. "And what have I learned?"

Drautdil twitched. "The Ring of Power has been found." They waited for Radagast to respond but he didn't, so they kept talking. "We saw Gandalf The Grey come and go. And after that we saw The Nine leave Minas Morgul."

At the second statement Radgast could not hide his shock. "How do you know this?"

"We have many eyes and many legs, and they reach farther than you know, Aiwendil. We saw them pass Emyn Muil late in the night, the same night Gadalf rode from Mirkwood."

"They are hunting him."

The spider could not help but draw a little closer. "They hunt only one thing."

Radagast drew closer himself, driving his gaze into the spider's many eyes. "Tell me, how is it you are so wise of the world, Drautdil?"

Drautdil came close to flinching, but instead hardened its grip on the table. As it spoke, Radagast could hear the wood fracturing. "We have been here for over a century, growing, changing, learning."

"Learning what?"

"That we need not live in our mother's shadow."

Radagast leant in even closer than before – a steady, heavy, unbreakable presence. "Is that so?"

Drautdil gripped the table even harder, a piece of wood breaking off and ricocheting across the floor. The sound distracted the spider, but not The Brown Wizard. Before Drautdil looked back at Radagast, he little more than whimpered, "Not all see things the way I do."

The Brown Wizard could not help but chuckle. Pulling away and standing straight he moved across the room to light one of the oil lamps. "A schism amongst spiders? A tear in the web, so to speak?"

The ochre glow of the lamp did not disturb Drautdil, in fact the spider seemed to find it somewhat soothing. "Something like that."

Radagast poured himself a mug of mead; as he drank he felt the damage The Black Speech had done to his tongue and lips. Wincing in pain as he swallowed, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "If this is to continue we must find another way of communicating."

The spider lowered its head in shame. "I have no other way."

The Brown Wizard felt pity growing in his heart, it was a dangerous feeling. "Then perhaps I will teach you. Either way, after tonight, The Black Speech shall never stain my home again."

Drautdil nodded. "As you command, Aiwendil."

Radagast could sense the other animals gathering at the doorway. He could even hear Manwe's scratchings as they perched on the roof, just above the windowsill. The Brown Wizard turned his gaze to the squirrel still clung his to his staff. Then he looked at Drautdil, then back at the squirrel. "What make you of this, diplomat and exile that you are? Seems to me that you two have a lot in common."

The squirrel looked at Drautdil, and the spider looked back; without blinking, their eyes seemed to reach out to each other, and in time seemed to touch. But The Brown Wizard knew, when it comes to squirrels and spiders, things are rarely what they seem. But he could not trust in no one; what good to the world was another wizard who trusted in no one? They already had one of those – and it seemed his friend, the ring and the Nazgul were all headed towards them.

For Gandalf's sake, in Gandalf's way, perhaps the instinct of pity need lead to the choice of trust.

"Do your eyes and legs reach as far as Isengard?"

Drautdil thought for a moment. "They could do."

Radagast took another pained swig from his mug. "If I am to help you control your kin, so that you all may help the world against the goblin threat, first I need Isengard watched."

The Brown Wizard glanced at the squirrel, who gave him nothing but agreement and pride.

"Why Isengard?" asked the spider.

Radagast sighed with a grief for things that had not yet come to pass. "There may come a time, soon, where all that stands between the world and its doom, is Saruman's ability to keep secrets."

Drautdil looked from Radgast to the squirrel to the shining canine eyes advancing in the hallway. "You do not trust The White Wizard?"

Radagast sank his mug. "Saruman has never been The White Wizard." Pouring himself another drink, low growling began to rumble in the doorway. The Brown Wizard turned, "Be quiet! The spide- Drautdil is our guest. If you're going to come in, do so courteously." The wolves went silent, and padded into the room sheepishly. Radagast could hear Manwe taking flight in protest. Her majesty was already on the table, sniffing at Drautdil, who did their best to not panic.

"So can you do it?"

Drautdil, still struggling to not react to being inspected by a cat, took hold of their focus. "Yes. I can make sure Isengard is being watched."

Radagast raised their newly filled mug. "And I will teach you the common tongue, and you will teach it to your followers. But for now, you will tell me what needs to be done to unite your people."

"My people?"

"Historically have those who fought against evil not been referred to as The Free Peoples of Middle Earth?"

Drautdil's eyes squinted, expressing a feeling The Brown Wizard did not know spiders could feel, let alone express. "Yes, I wish my people to be free."

Her majesty, sufficiently appeased by her inspection, moved away from the spider and climbed into Radagast's lap. "So, tell me," began The Brown Wizard, stroking the cat, "Who is stopping that from being?"

Drautdil looked down at Her Majesty, who was now purring loudly, seemingly unable to process the idea of comfort. "They call themselves Daughavas."

"Where are they?"

"They live within The Black Oak."

"Rhovanian's bastard child."