Chapter III- The White Wizard
"The world is changing," the words echoed through Autumn's mind as she continued further into Fangorn Forest. "Who now has the strength to stand against the armies of Isengard and Mordor? To stand against the might of Sauron and Saruman, and the union of the Two Towers?"
"Hurry!" Merry called, ducking under a twisted tree root. The Hobbits were fast, and with how dark the forest was, the woman struggled to keep track of them and their movements.
"Can you hear that?" she gasped to her friends. Autumn took a glance over her shoulder but didn't see anything behind them. The voice echoing in her mind didn't sound like Melkor's, nor was it feminine in any way. This voice was deep and reverberated in the recesses of her mind. It frightened her more than the loss of her memories because it meant someone could speak directly to her, infiltrating her psyche.
"Hear what?" Pippin called back.
"The voice," Autumn gasped. What was this devilry? The phrase made her think longingly of Boromir and how much she desperately missed him. "There's a voice on the air, can't you hear it?" But the Hobbits didn't answer her. The situation reminded her of the Pass of Caradhas when Legolas could hear a faint voice, but no one else could, save Gandalf.
"Together, my lord Sauron, we shall rule this Middle Earth," the voice whispered in her mind. "The old world will burn in the fires of Industry; the forests will fall. A new order will rise. We will drive the machine of war with the sword, and the spear, and the iron fist of the Orc."
Autumn searched her mind. Who could possibly be speaking? It struck her that it had to be the same person who had spoken before: Saruman. He'd been looking for her recently, believing that she was a seer, which she had been before Amon Hen. Ever since her abduction with the Hobbits, her memories had faded. Perhaps it was some sort of temporary memory loss, but she worried that it might persist.
Her side and chest throbbed in pain as she pushed herself further into the forest. "I need a moment," she called out breathlessly, bending over and puffing hard. She hated running, even back in her own world. Her rule of thumb had always been 'If I'm running, something better be chasing me.' She was breathing hard, trying to ignore the side stitch that was affecting her.
Ahead, the Hobbits came to a stop, their eyes flitting around nervously. Pippin looked out over the forest, finding it rather difficult to see anything through the bows of moss and thick greenery. "I don't see anything!" he said.
"Are you alright, milady?" Merry asked, sweat beading his brow. He looked weary, but it was evident by the hesitation in his voice that he did not want to linger very long.
"I need to try and stop this bleeding," Autumn managed through gritted teeth. The red blotch on her tunic had been growing redder through the night as they were forced further into Fangorn Forest. With a shaky hand, Autumn pressed the palm of her hand against the wound in her shoulder. Her blood was warm and thin, oxidized from the exposure to the air around her.
Please, Estë, Autumn prayed quietly. Please let this work.
She channeled all of her energy into the will of healing the injury she had sustained at Amon Hen. Autumn thought of the Mines of Moria and how she'd visualized the wound healing on its own. "Please, Mother," she whispered quietly. She whimpered softly as the cut in her shoulder began tingling softly.
The same, soft blue light from the Mines began seeping from her fingers and creeping into the exposed injury. It was an itchy sort of feeling, as the red maw of flesh began to turn pink and healthy slowly. The new skin began the stretch, covering the exposed area and healing much faster than it had before.
Merry and Pippin exchanged a glance, still fascinated by the Healer's abilities.
Autumn gasped a little when the blue light faded from her hand. "Thank you," she said to Estë gratefully. She felt a bit guilty for believing that her mother had abandoned her again... but maybe it had been herself that had done the healing without Estë's help.
"Did we lose him?" Pippin asked, taking a look around the forest from his post. Their temporary halt had been good to catch their breath, but they were reminded of the Orc who'd pursued them throughout the night. Now, with the moonlight peeking through the leaves of the forest, they hoped they were finally in the clear. "I think we lost 'em."
They all held their breath, listening hard. The Hobbits and Woman only heard the sound of their hearts thumping against their chests. Far off in the distance, came the soft caw of a bird, high in the boughs of a tree. A false sense of relief passed over them. "I think you're right," managed Autumn with a half-smile.
Suddenly, the rough tramping of leaves through the forest caught their attention and the horrible growl of: "I'm gonna rip out your filthy little innards!" The lumbering figure of the purple-tinted Orc leader appeared with his curved blade in hand. "Come 'ere!"
"Run!" Autumn urged the Hobbits, covering them as they ran for cover into the forest. She had nothing to defend herself but grabbed for a weighty branch off the ground before turning and following after Merry and Pippin.
Ahead, about 40 yards, she heard Merry urging Pippin to climb a tree. She watched as the two Hobbits scampered up the side of a giant Oaktree. The tree was much taller than the others in Fangorn, covered in thick, yellowed moss and long branches. There was something familiar about it, something Autumn knew was important, but she couldn't remember for the life of her.
She hurried along, desperately trying to reach her friends, before a tight grip on her hair sent her reeling behind. The force jerked her head backward, where she tumbled to the ground, faltering in the leaves. Autumn landed hard on her back, dazed. When she opened her eyes, she saw the Orc leering at her.
"Where do you think you're going?" he taunted her. "The Master wants you alive!" His heavily armored foot found its way ontop of her chest, sending ripples of pain down her body.
"Hurry, Pippin!" came the voice of Merry across the forest. He didn't sound far off, and Autumn couldn't let the Orc reach her friend. She took a swing at the Orc with the branch, still white-knuckled in her hand.
The Orc saw the branch coming and caught it quickly with his free hand. "I'll deal with you later." He hissed, grabbing the branch in midair. He took the piece of wood and thrust it downward, catching her in the side of the head, and Autumn's world went dark.
...
Merry clung to the branch of the tree, taking a quick glance around the moonlit forest for any sign of their pursuer. With a sigh of relief, he looked up at Pippin; "He's gone!" No sooner had he said the words, that something took hold of his ankle and jerked him downward. He grunted, trying in vain to hold onto the branch that seemed to be his only lifeline. His grip loosened, and suddenly Merry found himself flat on the ground with the wind knocked out of him.
In front of him, the Orcish pursuer hissed excitedly. His steel-blue eyes gleamed with bloodlust, but a swift kick to the nose from the sandy-haired Hobbit had him seething with anger. Dark blood came from the broken nose of the Orc, and it lunged at Merry, who scooted back frantically.
Still clinging to the bark of the tree, Pippin watched defenselessly from above. "Merry!" he cried. Where on earth was Autumn? Just out of his eyesight, the Tree opened its eyes, blinking several times before exhaling softly. Pippin did a double-take, crying out in disgust upon realizing his small hand was gripping the nose of this now alive Tree.
The Tree looked at him sternly, as Pippin, terrified, tumbled backward and off of the Tree. Halfway through his fall to the ground, the Tree caught him securing the Hobbit in its rough, barked hands.
Merry meanwhile, found himself cornered by the Orc, who'd caught up with him, and now held the curved blade above his body. "Let's put a maggot hole in your belly." Before he could drive the knife into Merry's body, he noticed the Hobbit's wide eyes and the grumble of bark behind him. He looked from the corner of his eyes, but before he could react, the giant Tree lurched forward, crushing the Orc under the weight of its 'foot.'
"Run, Merry!" Pippin cried out, warning his friend as best as he could.
Merry reeled, scampering backward and running away from the Tree-thing that now gripped his friend. He mentally kicked himself for being so cowardly, but he was terrified. He'd seen the trees move before-- over the hedge at the border of Buckland, and it was something he never wanted to revisit. Poor Brandybuck didn't make it more than a few yards before the Tree caught him in two smooth strides.
The Tree's fingers wrapped around Merry's torso, bringing him upward and in view of its squinting, yellow-green eyes. The Hobbits squirmed in its hands as the Tree looked between the two of them, squinting angrily. "Little Orcs," he grumbled. "Bu-la-room."
"It's talking, Merry," Pippin gasped, wide-eyed. He hardly noticed that the Tree was walking away from the squashed Orc and deeper into Fangorn Forest. "The Tree is talking."
"Tree?" Demanded the thing clutching them tightly. "I am no Tree. I am an Ent."
"A tree-herder," Merry marveled. A small smile crossed his lips as his struggle ceased. "A shepherd of the forest."
"Don't talk to it, Merry," Pippin hissed. "Don't encourage it."
"Treebeard some call me," the Ent rumbled wistfully as if it had been a long time since anyone called it anything.
"And, uh," Pippin hesitated, not sure what he should ask the talking Tree. "Whose side are yeh on?"
"Side?" the Ent breathed, talking slowly. "I am on nobody's side... because nobody's on my side, Little Orc. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."
"We're not Orcs!" protested Merry, slightly offended. "We're Hobbits! And our friend is back there somewhere, and we must get back to her."
"Hobbits?" asked Treebeard, the word sounding foreign in his mouth. "Never heard of a Hobbit before... sounds like Orc mischief to me." His grip around their tiny waists became tight, slowly squeezing the Hobbits tighter than he had before, making them squirm in pain. "They come with fire; they come with axes... Gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking burning! Destroyers and usurpers. Curse them!"
"No!" Merry cried, frantically looking for any sign of Autumn. He hoped she was somewhere nearby, perhaps pursuing them. "You don't understand. We're Hobbits! Halflings-- Shire-folk!"
"Maybe you are," Treebeard rumbled suspiciously. "And maybe you aren't. The White Wizard will know."
"The White Wizard?" Pippin whispered. He'd heard that phrase frequently from the Uruk-Hai since leaving Amon Hen, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it somewhat challenging to think clearly at the moment.
"Saruman," Merry realized weakly.
Suddenly, Treebeard released the Hobbits, and they came tumbling down and landed in a pile of fallen leaves. As they caught their breath, their eyes fell on the hem of a white robe. Attached to the White robe was an elderly and bearded man.
...
"There are dead things!" Sam cried. "Dead faces in the water." Samwise and Frodo were standing on a mossy sandbar in the middle of a marsh. They both looked dirty and weary, their green cloaks giving them a little bit of shade from the harsh sunlight above.
Autumn watched them curiously. The air around them was foggy as if she was viewing them in a dream or a vision. Perhaps it was both. She reached out with a shaky hand, trying to see if she could touch them, but her hand passed through Sam's shoulder like mist. What is this? She wondered to herself. How do I see this?
Beneath the surface of the marsh-water were the pale and water-logged faces of handsome men and ageless Elves, but all of them were dead. They'd been gone for a long time. Their armor had rusted, and their weapons had all but fallen apart. Green plants came up from below the surface, covering some of the bodies in a murky burial cloth.
"All dead," came the haunting voice of the creature Gollum. "All rotten." Gollum was lanky and sickly in appearance. His lower half was dressed in a thin loincloth.
Autumn had never seen the creature fully. She'd only seen glimpses of him in the shadows of the Mines of Moria or tracking their group down the Anduin. Now she felt a sort of pity for the creature that had experienced so much pain and sorrow from the Ring. Oh, there was the Ring... It was nearby. Autumn could feel the pull it had on her, even from beneath the folds of Frodo's blouse.
The Ring should be hers... after all, she was the daughter of one of the Valar. If anyone should have Ring of Power, it should be her. The thought seemed foreign to her now, but also familiar, as it had been anytime, she was too close to Frodo.
"Elves, and, Men, and Orcses," Gollum continued, leading the Hobbits through a path that only he could see. "A great battle long ago. Dead Marshes," he turned, looking over his shoulder with beady blue eyes. "Yes, yes, that is their name." He waved them on, urging the Hobbits to follow him. "This way."
"You see them," the silky voice of Melkor whispered into her ear. "Don't you?"
Autumn shuttered, feeling the words graze the side of her ear. "Why are you showing me this?" she asked weakly. The image began fading from her eyes until only darkness surrounded her. She hated the idea of Gollum leading poor Sam and Frodo into the direction of danger. Was there danger ahead for them?
"Isn't it clear to you?" the Dark Lord whispered back. "Your gift of farsight has been missing from you for several days now. This scene of the Hobbits is something you already know, isn't it?"
Autumn closed her eyes, searching wildly in her mind. The Hobbits. Frodo. Sam. Gollum. The Dead Marshes. What was the significance? Her eyes shot open, suddenly finding the brightness of a thousand lights in her optics.
"Don't follow the lights," she whispered softly, shielding her eyes from what lay in front of her.
...
Boromir, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli continued further into Fangorn Forest, alarmed at how musty and dank the woods seemed. The boughs of the trees were thick with hanging mosses, and the gnarled roots of the trees tangled around their feet, urging them to be careful with their footing. The air was foul and dusty-smelling, like an old cellar that never saw sunlight, and it reminded Boromir of the vault beneath Minas Tirith, where all of the old records were kept.
A small creek trickled through the forest. The babbling water reminded Boromir of the little fountain beneath the White Tree of Gondor. Growing up, he and Faramir spent much of their time beneath the Tree, waiting for the blossoms that appeared in early spring. It had been a pastime of theirs, but with time, the tree bloomed no more.
"The forest stretches within the borders of Gondor," the auburn-haired men said, breaking the eerie silence that had fallen over them. "Although, no one from Gondor has dared venture into this place in a long time."
"And why is that?" Aragorn asked, ducking under a long, gnarled branch.
"The forest is presumed haunted," Boromir responded lowly. "Ill news. No one has come to disprove or prove the legends that surround it. Gondor has enough troubles with Mordor and its forces to worry about Fangorn."
Gimli caught sight of something red splashed across the leaves of a nearby bush. He brushed the red liquid with a gloved finger before bringing it to his lips. "Orc blood," he spat, spewing the fluid from his mouth.
They pressed further into the forest, the ground becoming even more uprooted and unstable. "These are strange tracks," Aragorn muttered, crouching down to the ground to investigate the disrupted earth.
"I've not seen anything like this before," Boromir marveled, taking notice of the eerie marks in the soil. "What could have made these?"
Aragorn didn't answer. He seemed to be wondering the same thing.
"The air is so close in here," Gimli noticed, looking around nervously. He felt the eerieness over the forest as he had back in Lothlorien nearly a week ago. Last time he felt this way, he was snuck upon by a group of pointy-eared Elfings, but now he had more significant problems on his hand.
"This forest is old," Legolas said softly. "Very old," His link to forests put him in a better tune with nature and the earth in general. He'd grown up in Mirkwood, quickly sensing when things were off or wrong with the roots of the woods. "And full of memory... and anger."
The forest rumbled and creaked, sending deep shudders under the earth and back up into the branches of the trees. Gimli, startled, held his ax up, spinning around in a small circle. Boromir wanted to do the same, keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked around suspiciously.
"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas remarked, his eyes falling on Gimli, who still held his weapon up.
"Gimli!" Aragorn whispered sharply. "Lower your ax!"
Gimli did as he was told, and released his ax, letting it fall slowly to the ground. In good measure, he raised his opposite hand in surrender. The Dwarf was wide-eyed and obviously out of his comfort zone. Boromir empathized with the red-beared comrade, he too, was out of his zone.
"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas remarked sadly. His eyes looked up into the trees, his voice wavering with slight emotion. "We Elves began it... waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."
"Talking trees?" Gimli stuttered. "What do trees have to talk about, huh?" he grumbled, walking forward as the group continued further into the forest. "Except for the consistency of squirrel droppings."
Boromir chuckled. He thought the same. In his opinion, trees shouldn't have much to speak about either. He was just about to comment when the Elf, Legolas, stopped abruptly. "Aragorn," Legolas said sharply. "Nad nâ ennas!" Something's out there.
"Man cenich?" Aragorn whispered, coming up to the Prince's side. What do you see?
Boromir followed after the other Man, Gimli, close behind. "Speak in a language all of us can understand," the Gondorian muttered under his breath, getting a grumble of agreement from the Dwarf.
"The White Wizard approaches," Legolas stated, his eyes darting from side-to-side.
"Saruman," the word was like poison in the Gondorian's mouth. The White Wizard had caused enough damage thus far.
"We cannot let him speak," Aragorn hissed, exchanging a look between Legolas and Boromir. "He will put a spell on us." His hand went to his sword.
Boromir drew his longsword, Legolas pulled an arrow and notched it to his bow, and Gimli produced two throwing axes from his side.
"We must be quick," Aragorn whispered, drawing his sword. On his action, the Fellowship spun around and was met by a blinding white light. Gimli threw his first ax at the shape, but the figure batted it away with a staff. Legolas loosed an arrow, but the white figure did the same to that too, casting the bolt away like it was nothing. Boromir found that he and Aragorn's swords turned red with heat, causing them to drop them onto the leaves below.
The men stood in shock, shielding their eyes from the light that shone brightly in front of them. They tried in vain to process how they had been outdone so fast. "You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits and a Woman," the White Wizard stated. His voice rumbled darkly.
"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded.
"What have you done with them?" Boromir hissed. If he learned that this Wizard had done anything to Autumn, he would end him. Even if it cost him his life, Boromir would kill the Wizard.
"They passed by here the day before yesterday," The Wizard responded cryptically, ignoring Boromir's question. "They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"
"Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn demanded, taking a threatening step forward.
The bright light extinguished, revealing Gandalf standing in their midst. He was healthier in appearance, cleaner, and dressed from head-to-foot in white robes. A seamless ivory one replaced his brown staff.
"It cannot be," Aragorn shook his head in disbelief.
"You should not be standing here," Boromir marveled, blinking several times to ensure that what he was seeing was real.
"Forgive me," Legolas pleaded, dropping to one knee in front of their long-lost companion. "I mistook you for Saruman."
"I am Saruman," Gandalf announced slowly, his eyes bluer than they'd been before. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been," he smiled.
"You fell," Aragorn protested.
Gandalf nodded. "Through fire... and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead... and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again..." he studied them with sad, blue eyes. "I've been sent back until my task is done."
"Gandalf," Aragorn whispered.
"Gandalf?" his eyes were empty, and then remembrance seemed to click. "Yes... That was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey... That was my name."
"Gandalf," Gimli nodded, a smile parting his lips.
"I am Gandalf the White, and I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide." His eyes met Boromir, and a brief smile crossed his lips. "Ah, but you are searching for the young mistress of our Fellowship."
"She's alive?" Boromir felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "She's safe?" Praise the Valar! Perhaps after all this searching, he would finally be reunited with the woman he had grown so close to.
"Come," Gandalf urged his Companions, hurrying away from the thicker part of the forest. "Lady Autumn is waiting for us at the edge of the forest. The darkness hanging over this place was too much for her, and her body was too weak to be such a site."
"But she is alright, Gandalf?" Boromir asked, doing his best to match his stride with the Wizard.
"Something is troubling her, I'm afraid," the Wizard responded sadly. "It was as I feared in Rivendell, the Enemy has learned of our Companion and her knowledge of Middle Earth. She has reported to me that she has begun to see flashes of things happening now and voices in her mind."
"The Valar are aware of the timeline changes?" Legolas asked, his voice also laced with worry.
"Yes," Gandalf answered. "One stage of your journey is over. Another begins. We must travel to Edoras with all speed. The answers that we seek may very well be there."
"Edoras?" Boromir questioned, confusion in his voice. He wasn't sure why they would make for the capital of Rohan when they had other things to worry about.
"That is no short distance," the Dwarf grumbled, as we reached the edge of the treeline.
"We hear of trouble in Rohan," Aragorn reported to Gandalf. "It goes ill with the King."
"Yes, and it will not be easily cured," replied the old Wizard.
"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" demanded the ill-tempered Dwarf. In three days' time, they'd come nearly one-hundred and fifty miles, a much farther distance than any Dwarf would ever hope to run. "Are we to leave those poor Hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank tree-infested--?" The Forest groaned and rumbled deeply. "I mean charming, quite charming forest!"
Gandalf turned to face the company, a small smile on his lips. "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry, Pippin, and Autumn to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The travels of Merry and Pippin, from the Forest to their destination, will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."
"In one thing you have not changed, dear friend," Aragorn chuckled softly. "You still speak in riddles."
"And what of Autumn? Was she merely a conduit for the Hobbits to accomplish this effect?" Boromir asked, his impatience beginning to boil over.
"My dear, Boromir, all will be explained shortly," Mithrandir said cryptically. He turned his attention back to the group as a whole. "A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days. The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."
"Strong?" demanded Gimli nervously. "Oh, that's good."
"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf! Merry and Pippin are quite safe. They are far safer than you are about to be." He led my Aragorn and Legolas forward while Boromir lagged behind with Gimli. The two had become very close, especially since their boat-sharing with Autumn.
"The new Gandalf is more grumpy than the old one," Gimli murmured under his breath to the Gondorian.
Boromir chuckled. "But at least he's back."
"Strange, isn't it?" the Dwarf said thoughtfully. "Gandalf died, and yet here he is... and you were supposed to die, and yet here you are?"
Boromir caught his breath. He'd been trying not to think about that situation. It was hard enough to have seen the Woman sacrificing herself for him in the heat of battle, let alone knowing that he was destined to have died at Amon Hen. "Indeed it is, Master Gimli," Boromir responded quietly.
...
After nearly an hour of trekking through the forest, they suddenly reached the edge of Fangorn. The sunlight streaming in through the trees was almost as bright as Gandalf had been when he'd first revealed himself. Boromir's heart skipped a beat when he recalled what Gandalf has said about Autumn waiting for them on the outskirts of the forest. His pace quickened, passing his comrades and stepping out onto the clearing that overlooked the fields of Rohan.
Standing with her back to him was the slender frame of Autumn. Her hair, raven-black, hung in a tangled braid, and her tunic and trousers were muddied with blood. Her leather jacket lay discarded in the grass, bloody and dirty. She heard him coming and turned slowly. Her cracked, dry lips curled into a smile, and her grey eyes twinkled with excitement. "Boromir," she gasped.
He'd crossed the meadow in a moment, his arms circling her waist and drawing her to his chest. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, feeling her warmth against him. "Autumn," he said her name, it flowed smoothly from his lips. She fit so perfectly in his arms as if she were made to be there.
After several moments, she pulled away from his embrace, her hand touching his unshaven face in disbelief. "You're alive," her eyes welled with tears. "I can't believe you're alive."
"All thanks to you," he replied huskily. Boromir leaned in, eager to meet her lips, but was interrupted by his companions finally breaking through the timberline. He smiled graciously, taking a step back to allow the others to greet their friend.
"Lass!" Gimli called, excitedly making his way to reach his beloved friend. "It's such a relief to see you alive and well. Bless you!" He was grinning excitedly, returning the hug Autumn had offered him.
"Gimli, I'm relieved to see you," she smiled courteously. Her eyes twinkled with sincerity. "I missed you, my friend."
"Aye," the Dwarf nodded eagerly. "I've missed yeh, too."
The Mirkwoodian Elf advanced, a smile on his fair face. "Lady Autumn," Legolas placed his right hand to his chest in greeting. Before Autumn could say anything, he reached over his shoulder to produce her Elven broadsword. "I thought you might have need of this."
Her jaw dropped in surprise. "You saved my sword?" She asked, shocked that her friends would think of something as simple as her weapon when they had left to find her and the Hobbits. She threw her arms around the Elf, hugging him gratefully. "Annon allen." I thank you.
Boromir felt a twang of jealousy in his heart but tried his best to swallow it down. It was a hug, he told himself. A hug in response to seeing friends who were thought gone. He took a deep breath, doing his best to keep the temper he'd inherited from his father at bay.
"Aragorn!" Autumn cried, hurrying to throw her arms around the Ranger's neck. Aragorn had been the first companion she had made in Middle Earth, and she considered him her closest friend. The Ranger seemed taken-aback by her forwardness. Women were not typically so straight-forward in Arda, but he loosed his tension and returned her embrace.
"Lady, Autumn," Aragorn smiled. He was relieved to find out that she was alive and safe. He'd grown fond of her, and he knew it was his duty to keep her safe. He also knew how important Autumn was to Boromir, but also to the Fellowship in general. Autumn was a resource of information on the fate of Middle Earth, and Aragorn needed to ensure she was kept out of the Enemy's hand.
"I missed you all," Autumn said, gesturing at her companions. "When I fell unconscious in the forest, Gandalf found me before I woke. I was both shocked and relieved to see him, and he recounted what had happened to him and how he came to be in Fangorn. When I explained that I'd lost Merry and Pippin, Gandalf informed me that he'd already seen them and sent them off with Treebeard. But things have been happening..." Autumn looked uneasily at the Wizard.
Gandalf nodded. "Tell them what you told me, my dear. The sooner they know, the sooner they will be able to help." Darkness shaded his wrinkled face, and bright, blue eyes clouded slightly.
"I've been visited in my dreams," Autumn said lowly, breaking her line of sight with Gandalf and looking at the ground. "By Melkor."
The air was stiff among them as the news of the former Valar haunting the woman's dreams came to light. "Surely, Lord Irmo is aware of these visitations to your dreams," Legolas said suddenly. Melkor's name was hardly spoken on this plane, and he'd been all but blocked out by many.
"You'd think," Autumn sighed, looking up to meet Boromir's eyes, which were laced with concern and anger. No, the anger wasn't directed at her, but at the one who was tormenting her. "However, Melkor informed me in our latest encounter that he'd found a way to block out Irmo and prevent him from interfering in our conversations. He told me that Varië's tapestries crumbled and that Lord Námo's Halls lacked 'a specific spirit.'"
"My spirit?" Boromir managed, and he felt the eyes of the party shift to him. The wounds in his chest and shoulder ached, reminding him how close he had come to death, and of the woman who had saved his life.
"Yes, your spirit, Boromir," Autumn replied gravely. "Melkor told me that I had entertained him with stories of Middle Earth and my own world... and that my memories were very important to him, the Valar, and Sauron himself. When I awoke from this dream, I found my memories had faded, and I knew nothing more than what I had already experienced.
"Then, after Merry, Pippin, and I escaped the Uruk-Hai and made our way into Fangorn, our pursuer knocked me unconscious. While in my daze, I saw Frodo and Sam. I could see them and hear them, but they did not know I was there. I could not interact with them, but they are being led by the creature Gollum. Gollum said something that jogged my memory about 'lights,' and at that moment, Gandalf found me, and all of my memories returned in a burst."
Aragorn and Legolas exchanged an apprehensive glance at the name of Gollum.
"The Weaver and her husband are aware of the timeline shifts that Autumn has made," Gandalf said. "It will not be long before the others do as well. Show them your scar."
Autumn hesitated before drawing back her blood-stained tunic to reveal the light-colored flesh of her healing wound. The skin was tender and shallow but with the appearance of the start of scabbing over.
"Autumn's powers as a healer are growing," Gandalf continued. "Her mother, the Lady Estë, has not abandoned her as you might have thought. The Giver of Rest has placed a heavy claim on her daughter, and the other Valar will not be blind to this much longer. The Weaver has already foreseen the Enemy's attention shifting to Autumn, and her presumed 'seer' abilities. We must keep her from being used by the dark powers of this world."
"The lass is safe with us," Gimli promised, gripping the neck of his ax.
"We've just gotten you back, and I'll be damned if I lose you again," Boromir growled. He was a first child and naturally territorial, but he wouldn't risk Autumn's safety again. He would do whatever it took to keep her close.
"And so?" Gandalf looked to Autumn. "What did you tell me?"
The woman took a deep breath. "The closer I am to danger, the farther I am from harm."
...
It didn't take long for the six companions to reach the horses that had been given to them by Éomer and his Riders. Gimli and Legolas soon found the white horse, Arod, gripping it by the bridal and bringing it close. Aragorn clicked his tongue to Hasufel, who came obediently to him without hesitation. Bree, the grey horse, whinnied upon seeing Boromir, his ears pinned back as if he were suspicious of the Gondorian.
Autumn took notice of how Boromir grimaced when reaching for Bree's reins. "May I see your wounds, Boromir?"
"I'm fine-," Boromir lied, trying not to worry Autumn, but her fingers were too fast for him, and they went quickly to his shirt and pulled aside the fabric to reveal his chest. There was a darkened, scabbed area on his chest.
Autumn's worried, grey eyes went to Aragorn. "You burned him?" she asked.
"I cauterized the wound to keep it from bleeding," Aragorn responded. "We kept the areas bound for a day, but the wrapping came loose as we continued to pursue the Uruk-Hai company."
"I'm fine, Lady Autumn," Boromir protested. "We used some of your bubbling potions to clean it before sealing the wound."
"Bubbling potion," she chuckled. "You mean the hydrogen peroxide?" She placed her hand lightly on his chest, carefully doing her best not to cause any harm as she prayed quietly to her mother. Slowly, the blue light glowed in her hand, streaming down into her fingertips and sealing the scar. The dark colors and scabs began to fade softly, transforming the area into a soft pinkness. She did the same to his shoulder, and the company marveled at how soon the injury faded.
"I am indebted to you once again," Boromir said lowly, rotating his shoulder and sensing relief at how good he felt. "This is the second time you have saved me."
"It won't be the last," she responded coyly, a small smile playing on the corners of her lips. She could feel her cheeks warm from the blush that was coming on.
"Is that a promise?" the Gondorian asked, his voice unintentionally becoming husky. He grinned, noting the blush that colored Autumn's face. He wished he could make her do that forever. Perhaps he would.
Before either of them could continue, Gandalf began whistling a low, haunting melody. The sound echoed across the glades, reverberating all around them. Almost instantly, a beautiful, white stallion came cantering across the hill to answer the White Wizard's call. Autumn knew at once that this was no ordinary horse.
"That is one of the Mearas," Legolas marveled, seeming to read the woman's mind. "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."
From what Autumn could remember, the Mearas were a breed of wild horses, who roamed freely in the north. They surpassed normal horses in intelligence, agility, and fervor. According to lore, the forefathers of the Mearas were brought from the West by The Huntsman of the Valar, Ormë. The Mearas were descended from Felaróf, the horse tamed by Rohan's first King, Eorl. The descendants of Felaróf later became the mounts used by the Riders of Rohan to this day.
The Mearas trotted over to Gandalf and nuzzled him with his white nose. "Shadowfax," the Wizard smiled, rubbing the horse affectionately. "He is the Lord of all Horses and has been my friend through many dangers." He turned to face his Companions and smiled. "Quickly now, we make for Edoras."
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Hey, y'all!
I hope you're having a great weekend so far!
I have to thank @sarahhhcatherineee for the awesome idea of having Autumn become separated from Merry and Pippin in Fangorn.
What are your thoughts on this chapter? How do you feel about her insights into the travels of Frodo and Sam? Do you want more snippets of Merry and Pippin? Did you like her reunion with Boromir? What do you think will (OR SHOULD) happen in Edoras?
As always, drop your ideas in the comments or DM me.
Have a great weekend!
Love,
Alexis
(5-16-20)