"Dead?" Gimli whispers. Legolas tightens his grip around my shoulders.
"I am sorry." Éomer says. "Hasufel! Arod!" He calls, and a chestnut horse and a white horse trot forwards with no rider.
"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters." He says, grabbing the reins and passing them to Aragorn and Legolas. "Farewell. Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." Éomer then mutters darkly, and calls over his shoulder to his men. "We ride north!" With thundering hoofbeats, the Rohirrim turn north and gallop away, leaving us behind in the empty area. I stare numbly after them, my friends silent as well. The two horses stand impatiently, one of them pawing at the dusty ground.
Finally Aragorn speaks.
"I do not believe they are dead." Aragorn hisses. "We cannot believe it yet." He grabs onto the brown horse's reins, pulling himself up onto the saddle. He reaches out an arm for me and I swing up behind him. Legolas and Gimli sit atop the white horse, Arod.
"I hope the Rohirrim were mistaken," I murmur, "I could not bear it if they are really... Gone." Aragorn smiles sadly at me before turning back to the front and nudging Hasufel forwards. Legolas and Gimli ride beside us, towards the giant pile of carcasses and smoke. We quickly approach the pile, and I grimace as I see a head impaled on a spear sticking out of the ground. The Uruk's tounge is sticking out and it's eyes are wide open, lips curling in a snarl. I turn away as the horses slow down a few paces away, and we all dismount quickly, rushing to the smoking pile. I follow Gimli as we search through the bodies, looking for the halflings. Gimli uses his axe, moving bodies here and there, and I try to help him with my two swords. He suddenly freezes, gasping slightly and I start to shake. Gimli plucks a leather belt from the pile- it belonged to Pippin.
"It's one of their wee belts..." Gimli whispers, and I shut my eyes tightly. I don't feel the rush of sadness, but instead I feel numb. Gandalf, Boromir, Merry, Pippin... Who else?
"Hiro îth ab 'wanath. (may they find peace after death.)" Legolas says softly, making his way over towards us. Aragorn kicks a helmet in either sadness, rage or despair- perhaps all three- and sinks to his knees. The helmet flies down the slight hill, thudding on the grass softly.
"We failed them." Gimli says, and I swallow. I could have saved them, I should have. Aragorn half-heartedly sweeps his hand over the squished grass.
"A hobbit lay here." He mutters, and I watch as he sits up, feeling the ground. A feeling of hope bubbles through me, but I push it down just in case. "They crawled." Aragorn rises to his feet and follows the light tracks, barely visible to me, but to the ranger, they seem to be easy to read.
"Their hands were bound." Aragorn continues. "Their bonds were cut!" He holds up some rope, frayed and cut at each end. How?
"They ran over here," Aragorn follows the tracks, but slows down when another pair of footsteps could be recognized along the hobbits. I lower my head. The little hope I carry diminishes. "They were followed." Aragorn says softly. "The tracks lead away from the battle." He then says, and I raise my head once more, watching as he runs to the borders of the forest nearby. We follow him.
"And into the Fangorn Forest." Aragorn finishes. They are alive!
"Fangorn. What madness drove them there?" Gimli gasps, looking at the forest in front of us. The trees look old, and worn. Nobody answers, and we walk into the forest. I end up walking beside Legolas, behind Aragorn, Gimli trailing behind, as always. I turn around to hurry him up, but he is stopped behind a bush. He dabs his finger at a leaf covered with some sort of liquid, and tastes it. I wrinkle my nose in disgust.
"Orc blood!" Gimli cries, spitting. How did an orc's blood get onto a leaf? I wonder.
"These are stange tracks." Aragorn says, head lowered, looking at the ground.
"The air is so close in here." Gimli complains, and I understand what he means. The air is thick, and almost difficult to breath.
"This forest is old.. Very old." I roll my eyes at Legolas, smirking slightly. Duh. "Full of memory, and anger. The trees are speaking to each other."
My eyes widen in surprise as the trees start to groan slightly, resulting in Gimli jumping and raising his axe.
"Gimli!" Aragorn whispers.
"Huh?" Is Gimli's reply.
"Lower your axe."
"Oh!" The dwarf hids his axe behind him guiltily, still glancing around anxiously, and the trees stop making noises.
"They have feelings, my friend. The elves began it- waking up the trees, teaching them how to speak." Legolas smiles as he talks, and I smirk as Gimli begins to grumble.
"Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about, hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."
"Aragorn, nad nâ ennas! (Aragorn, something is out there!)" Legolas hisses, stepping forwards. What is he saying?! I wish I could understand elvish...
"Man cenich? (what do you see?)" Aragorn whispers, looking around. Is something wrong?
"The White Wizard approaches." Legolas says softly, and I grip my swords, holding them out. I grit my teeth. Saruman...
"Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us. We must be quick!" Aragorn instructs, pulling out his sword. Legolas holds his bow and fits an arrow onto the string, Gimli holding a smaller axe. I exhale slowly, preparing to throw my right sword at the Wizard and perhaps cut off his neck with my other. These swords are quite light, and the Mithril will pierce pretty much anything. Aragorn nods, and we spin around in unison. Shouting, Gimli throws the small axe at the white light before us. It's definitely Saruman. Legolas releases his arrow at the same time as I let go of my sword, both spinning towards the figure. The axe, bow and sword are sent in different directions, Gimli's axe flying to the side, arrow flying past Saruman and my sword coming straight back towards me, whistling through the air. I duck as it whizzes through the air, landing with a loud clang, against a stone. Aragorn lifts his sword to swing, but it glows red and he drops it will a yell. The white light becomes unbearably bright and I shield my eyes, peeking through my fingers at the figure sillhouetted.
"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits." Saruman says.
"Where are they?" Aragorn yells.
"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" He asks, and I frown. He doesn't sound like the evil wizard... I am suddenly uncertain of who the figure is.
"Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn cries.
The light dims rapidly, and a wizard adorned in white smiles at us.
"It cannot be!" Aragorn gasps.
"Forgive me. I mistook you for Saruman." Legolas apologises.
"I am Saruman. Or rather Saruman as he should have been."
I stand in front of Gandalf, mouth wide open in shock.
"But you fell.." Aragorn whispers. Aragorn nods.
"Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, 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 the life age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt light in me again! I've been sent back until my task is done." Gandalf explains, and I shut my mouth.
Gandalf is back. Merry and Pippin are alive. Is Boromir going to hop out of the bushes now, alive and well?
"Gandalf." Aragorn mumbles.
"Gandalf?" He raises his head slightly, remembering. "Yes. That's whar they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name." He chuckles lightly.
"Gandalf!" Gimli laughs. I smile.
"I am Gandalf the White. And I have come back to you at the turn of the tide."
We all stand in silence, gazing at each other, before I suddenly lose it and dash up to the wizard and embracing him in a tight hug. Gandalf pats my back fondly, chuckling softly.
"I can't believe it..." I whisper, releasing him. "Boromir... He.. He's..." I do not want to say the word.
Gandalf smiles solemnly at me.
"I know."
I bite my lip and turn around, facing Legolas. Legolas drapes his left arm over my shoulder, pulling me close.
"Come." Gandalf the White beckons, and we begin to follow him deeper into Fangorn. Legolas doesn't release me, and I don't complain. "One stage of the journey is over, another begins. We must travel to Edoras with all speed."
"Edoras?" Gimli questions. "That is no short distance."
"We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the King." Aragorn says, and I nod.
"Yes, and it will not be easily cured." Gandalf exhales deeply.
"Then we have run all this way for nothing. Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested..." Gimli trails off as the trees start to groan once more, and starts back-pedaling. I snicker, and Legolas smiles in amusement. "I mean charming, quite charming forest?"
"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power 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 the mountains." Gandalf murmurs.
I frown in confusion, looking to Legolas for an answer. He looks at me and his lips curl into a smile.
"In one thing you have not changed, my friend." Aragorn says, standing beside Gandalf. He smiles as he looks at the wizard.
"Hm?" Gandalf raises an eyebrow.
"You still speak in riddles."