STORY NOTES:

According to The Return of the King, after Gandalf, the Elves, and the hobbits rode north after the War, they camped west of Moria for seven days (September 6-13) prior to the departure of Galadriel, Celeborn, and their entourage through the Redhorn Pass towards Lórien.  During this time, Gandalf, Elrond, Celeborn, and Galadriel communed silently at night about many things, past, present, and future.  Please note that I have taken a few liberties with location and geography; in this story, the Company is camped in a forested area near the foot of Celebdil -- one of the three mountains beneath which Moria lies.

Even with all of his elaborate plans and armies, Saruman never once set eyes on the One Ring -- or learned, with certainty, the identity of the Ringbearer.  Although the Ring has been destroyed, the obsessed Saruman is, even now, unable to think of anything else.  This is an AU tale in which Saruman and Gríma were never overtaken by the Company on their way north out of Rohan and Dunland.  As the story begins, these two are still unaccounted for, and Saruman still retains one power -- his voice.

Chapter 1 references The Silmarillion chapters 9 and 15.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“I am permitted to wear the One Ring: why cannot I see all the others and know the thoughts of those that wear them?”  Frodo Baggins, The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Mirror of Galadriel’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 1 --- The Three

September 6

Frodo opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight streaming into the large tent shared by the hobbits.  It had been many days since they had been able to sleep late and not break camp immediately.  He burrowed back into his blankets, nursing a slight headache.

“Everything all right, sir?”  Sam paused on his way out of the tent.

“Fine, Sam,” Frodo replied, “just the strangest dream…”

“Another one?  What about?”

“Ice.”  Frodo yawned and threw off his blankets.  “It doesn’t matter.”  He and Sam left the tent to wash up, and on their way back from the small, sparkling stream that ran amid the trees near the camp, they joined Gandalf, Merry, and Pippin as they stood together, gazing up at the glittering peak of Celebdil.

“Where is it?” Merry was asking.

“There.”  Gandalf pointed high above them.  “Just below the highest peak, the Balrog’s remains still lie-- now hidden to all but the Eagles.”

Merry whistled, and Sam closed his eyes, trying to imagine what had happened so far above their heads -- but Pippin scowled in concentration.

“So,” Pippin said slowly, “we have the last dragon at the bottom of a lake, and the last Balrog at the top of a mountain…”

“And I trust that word will not reach me of an army of foolish Tooks launching expeditions to view the remains of either,” Gandalf said sternly.  “In any event, there is no way of knowing whether or not that was ‘the last Balrog’.  Many things lie hidden still in the depths of the earth.”

“Or the depths of the waters,” Frodo said quietly.  “Gandalf, are we anywhere near the lake?  You know, where that creature tried to---”

“The West Gate of Moria lies to the southeast of us now,” Gandalf assured him, patting the hobbit’s shoulder.  “We will not be going that way, Frodo.”

“Good.”  Frodo turned to his fellow hobbits, his headache gone and already forgotten.  “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast!” Pippin agreed.

It had been a relief to the hobbits to learn that the Company would be halting for some days prior to the Lord and Lady’s departure.  The journey north had been a leisurely and peaceful one, but the days of constant riding had begun to be wearying.

The sons of Elrond also welcomed the opportunity to remain in one place, and planned to use the week to explore the foothills of Celebdil, an area they had not visited before.  Elrohir never tired of discovering the hiding places of nutritional and healing herbs, and Sam, eager to learn about new plants and their uses, made plans to accompany him the next day.  Upon learning that Elladan wished to locate some caves which Gimli had described, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin asked to join him.  The sons of Elrond reminded the hobbits of Legolas, always singing and full of tales.  Elrohir and Elladan, for their part, had discovered that they enjoyed the company of the hobbits, who were lighthearted companions, and walked as silently as they.  After nearly a month of constant travel from Rohan, strong friendships had been forged between all of them.

The weather since leaving Rohan had been warm and dry, but now late-summer storms were threatening.  Everyone spent their first day of “rest” working together to set up a substantial camp of large tents and pavilions, and gathering downed branches for firewood.

The day passed pleasantly, and after supper, talk, and some singing, the hobbits went to their beds.  Although he no longer chose to wear it, Frodo checked Sting as had become his custom.  This close to Moria, there was always a chance of stray Orcs; however, the blade showed not even a flicker of blue.  Frodo lay down and sighed, hoping for a night free of the strange and vivid dreams he had been experiencing.

“You did not win the entire war by yourself, Peregrin,” Merry was saying quietly.

“Yes, I did,” came Pippin’s sleepy voice.  “Who woke up the Balrog so it could fight Gandalf and he could get more powerful and wizard-y than before?  Who got us free so we could run into Treebeard and get him angry enough to rip Isengard to pieces?  Who got Sauron’s attention in the Stone so Strider knew what would happen when he looked into it, and draw the Eye to him, and not Frodo and Sam?”  Pippin stopped for breath.  “Who was---”

“You know, I think you’re right, Mr. Pippin,” Sam chuckled.  “Couldn’t you have found time to throw the Ring into the Fire, as well?”

“I couldn’t be everywhere at once, you know,” Pippin grinned.

“True,” Merry laughed.  “Well, thanks, Pip.  I’m glad the rest of us could help you in our own small way.”

“Me too,” Pippin yawned and curled up in his blankets.  “G’night, Frodo.”

Frodo smiled into the darkness.  “Good night, Pip.  And thanks.”

“’Welcome.”

Frodo tossed and turned in fitful sleep, his dreams a cascade of people and places he didn’t recognize.  He awoke around midnight, his head pounding, then sat up and looked about in utter shock.  He was no longer in the tent, but in a vast, crystalline hall, an expanse so huge he could scarcely comprehend it.  Bejewelled pillars glittered and shone, and… were gone.  Frodo looked wildly around the dark tent, hearing nothing but his companions’ soft breathing.  What had just happened?  He got to his feet and left the tent, looking for Gandalf -- but saw, instead, Lord Celeborn.  The Elf Lord was moving soundlessly through the sleeping camp and became aware of Frodo watching him.

“Frodo,” Celeborn called softly, “you are up late.  Is everything all right?”  He beckoned the hobbit to him.

”I’m not sure,” Frodo replied, coming to the Elf Lord’s side.  “I’ve been dreaming about such odd things, and just now I… saw something… wide awake.  I hoped Gandalf might be able to explain it.”

The Elf Lord crouched down in front of the hobbit.  “Do you wish to describe one of your dreams to me?”

“Last night was… ice.”  Frodo tried to remember.  “Fields of ice.  Freezing cold, and ice.  We walked and walked…”

“We?”

Frodo shook his head.  “It was so real, almost as if I was part of a line of people walking and walking through ice.  Some didn’t survive it, and we had to leave them behind.  Horns blowing…”  Frodo winced, rubbing his temples.  “I saw pillared halls,” he whispered.  “I… see… it’s too much…”

“Frodo,” Celeborn said quietly, “you are seeing the travels of Galadriel, long Ages past.”

Frodo stared at him in shock.  “How?”

“Let us find out.  I am on my way to join her, Elrond, and Gandalf.  I believe you should accompany me.”  Celeborn rose to his feet and took Frodo’s hand, leading the hobbit into the trees along a faint path.  After a time, Frodo could see a faint light glimmering ahead, and Celeborn led him into a clearing where three familiar figures sat in silence.

“My Lord?” Galadriel asked, “Is something amiss?  Frodo, are you well?”

“My Lady,” Celeborn said gravely, “You speak this night of Doriath, and the majesty of Melian’s realm?”

“We do,” Galadriel replied.

“Frodo is sensing your thoughts, seeing the images you describe.  Last night he dreamed of the Helcaraxë, and the passage of the Noldor to Middle-earth.”

Galadriel motioned for the hobbit to approach.  “Come closer, Frodo.”

Frodo came to her side.  “Doriath,” he murmured.  “Was it pillared and---”

“Yes,” the Lady smiled.  “The realm of Melian was glorious beyond words.  We…” She inclined her head to Elrond and Gandalf.  “We do not use words when sharing such tales.  Our thoughts are open to each other.”

Frodo suddenly gasped, his eyes widening in fear.  “I didn’t do it, Lady,” he cried.  “I swear it to you.  I never tried, not once.”

“What are you saying, Frodo?” Galadriel took his hands.  “Tell me.”

Frodo looked up at her, his eyes so full of anguish it smote her heart.

“You said…” He swallowed and tried again.  “When I saw your Ring, in Lórien, you said that before I could know the thoughts of other Ringbearers I would need to train my will to the domination of others.”  Other Ringbearers… Frodo glanced at Elrond and Gandalf, than back to Galadriel.  “I swear it, Lady, I never did that.  It was all Sam and I could do, just to stay alive and to hide, and…”

Galadriel cupped Frodo’s face in her hands.  “Frodo, we know you have not done this.”

“But you said---”

“I know what I said.”  Galadriel was filled with anger at herself, and overwhelming pity for this tormented hobbit.  “I was wrong, Frodo.  Even someone who has seen as many Ages of this world as I have, can make a mistake… now and then.”

Frodo took a shuddering breath.  “Then… why is this happening?”

“I do not know.”  Galadriel exchanged glances with Elrond and Gandalf, but Frodo could sense nothing of what passed between them.  “We are able to veil our thoughts, but did not know that it was necessary to do so.  We will cause you no further distress.  Frodo, look at me.”  She looked into the hobbit’s face; it was pale and drawn.  “Are you in pain?”

“My head,” Frodo whispered.  “It’s like…”  The pounding had grown into a fierce headache -- sharp and stabbing.

Elrond quickly moved to kneel at Frodo’s side.  He pressed one hand gently to Frodo’s forehead and the other to the back of the hobbit’s head.  Behind his closed eyelids Frodo saw a flash of blue, and felt a warm pressure filling his head, pushing away the pain.  He sighed in relief, and felt Elrond’s hands leave his head.  He felt weak with the sudden cessation of pain.

“Frodo,” Elrond’s voice was low and soothing.  “Be at peace and return to bed.  We will talk more about this tomorrow.”

Frodo nodded, but grew suddenly lightheaded.  Elrond caught him as he stumbled.

“I am all right,” said Frodo insisted.  “I just felt dizzy for a moment.”

“You feel warm,” Elrond said quietly.  “The headache and dizziness may be your body’s attempt to adjust to all that you are experiencing.  A good night’s sleep may be all that you require.”  He lifted the hobbit into his arms.

“No,” Frodo protested, “you don’t need to---”

“You are no burden,” said Elrond.  He gave his companions a worried look and started to carry Frodo slowly back to the main encampment.  “You must tell me if your headache returns.”

“I will.”  Frodo frowned, struck by a sudden realization.  “Lord Elrond, what you just did… do you wear one of the Three?”

Elrond looked at him steadily.  “Yes.  I am steward of Vilya, the Ring of Air -- most potent of the Three, its energies have been slowest to fade.”

“And the third…” Frodo gazed up at him, wide eyed.  “Gandalf?”

“Yes.”

“I had thought…” Frodo tried to think clearly through the dizziness he was feeling.  “You said, in the Council, that you feared the power of the Three would dissipate when the One was melted.”

“We all believed that would occur, and quite quickly,” replied Elrond.  “Indeed, the power of each ring has diminished greatly, and will no doubt continue to do so, until they are but heirlooms of a bygone Age.”  He smiled sadly.  “One of the reasons we are encamped here is that there is much for us to yet discuss with Gandalf, and not all of it can be said in words.  As the Rings’ energies weaken, our ability to converse silently will likewise fade.”

“That is sad,” Frodo sighed.  “It seems a wonderful thing, to me.”  He frowned.  “Are my thoughts as open to you, then?”

“We do not intrude without permission,” Elrond assured him, “or unless there is great need.”

Frodo saw that they were approaching the camp.  “Please put me down before we’re seen; I don’t want anyone to fuss.”

“You never do,” Elrond smiled, setting Frodo gently on his feet.  “Go to your bed.  I do not believe your dreams will be disturbed any longer.”

*~*~*~*~*

Back in the clearing, Celeborn had seated himself with a sigh.  “Frodo’s long burden has changed him in ways none of us realized.”

“I was wrong in what I told him,” Galadriel said, troubled.

“On the contrary, I believe you were correct,” Gandalf said thoughtfully.  “Frodo did train his will to dominate, although he is not aware of it.”

“Please explain,” Galadriel said.

“Gollum was not tamed by fear of the Ring alone,” the wizard mused, “but by Frodo’s will.”

“He did not consciously seek dominion over another---”

“No,” Gandalf agreed, “but in order to survive, to resist, to endure… Frodo underwent a transformation of which he was unaware.”

“Perhaps,” Galadriel said slowly.  “I know of no other mortal who has discerned my thoughts as he has.  And now---”

Celeborn nodded.  “He has grown, and is stronger than he knows.  There may be no end to that of which the hobbits are capable.”

Gandalf smiled in the direction Elrond and Frodo had gone.  “Especially this one.”

** TBC **

I’m so grateful to you folks!  Starting a new story is always rather nerve-wracking for me, and I can’t thank you enough for all the encouragement.

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“This snake had still one tooth left, I think.  He had the poison of his voice.”  Gandalf, The Return of the King, ‘Many Partings’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 2 --- Stormclouds

September 7

It had taken less than an hour’s walk through the forest east of the camp to bring Elladan, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin to the base of Celebdil.  There, through the thinning trees, the mountain loomed above them, and it was Frodo who first spied the series of four caves in the side of the mountain, spaced at intervals perhaps 500 feet above them.

Without warning, the clear morning calm was broken as thunder began to be heard in the distance, and massive clouds had closed in so suddenly that even Elladan was taken by surprise by the swiftness of the storm.  The skies opened up and a hard rain began to fall.  The caves offered the best chance of shelter, and without a word, the hobbits began to climb as quickly as possible up the faint path, Elladan staying close behind them.

Elrond stood quietly under the large pavilion, staring out into the rain coming down in unending sheets.

“What troubles you?” Galadriel asked softly, coming to his side.  “Do you sense danger?”

“I sense something,” Elrond replied, “but I do not know what it is.  I wish Frodo had not gone with them.”

“Why?”

“I am concerned about what he experienced last night,” the Elf Lord explained.  “If Frodo’s slight fever remains, or returns, he may not fare well in such weather.”

“Elladan will look after them,” Gandalf said, joining them.  “However, you know as well as I that the hobbits need protection no longer, Elrond.  They have grown.  All of them.”

“I know,” Elrond said, but his smile did not reach his eyes.  “Still, I will rest better when they have returned.”

The hobbits and Elladan dashed inside one of the caves, nearly blown into it by the wind and cold, pounding rain.  Shaking the water from their hair, the hobbits threw off their sodden cloaks and jackets near the entrance, and Merry and Pippin unbuckled their belts and lay their swords on the ground.  Elladan unslung his bow and quiver, and lay them and his long knife aside as well.

The sky had darkened as if night had fallen, and even Elladan’s eyes could see very little in the gloom of the cave.  “We need light.  Let us see if we can---”

“Light?”  With a smile, Frodo knelt at the pile of outerwear and weapons, then drew out something from his jacket pocket and held it high.  Elladan, Merry, and Pippin gaped in wonder as a gentle radiance grew, and multiplied, until Frodo seemed the center of a star drawn to earth.

“So that’s what that looks like,” Merry grinned.  “A light to you when all other lights go out, indeed.”

“Astounding,” Elladan murmured.  “A gift well bestowed.”  He frowned, noticing that the small hand holding the phial was shaking.  Frodo was beginning to shiver with cold.

“We need a fire,” Pippin said suddenly, observing the same thing.  “Let’s go a bit farther in, away from this wind.”

In the faint light from the entrance, and the greater radiance cast by the phial, all four observed their surroundings as they gathered materials to use for a fire.  What had once been an ornately carved and decorated cavern had succumbed to the ravages of time, or something else.

“What a mess,” Merry said in disgust.

“You are correct,” Elladan agreed, dragging a large branch into a dry area near a grouping of massive stone carvings.  “Something has happened here to bring down many of the pillars and beams.”

“Orcs?” Pippin asked.

“Perhaps,” Elladan said, looking about.  Some of the many carvings adorning the cave lay haphazardly on the ground, as did a great deal of debris.  Water had pooled in many areas, and the hobbits had to step carefully to avoid them.  Thunder crashed louder, and lightning lit up the entrance to the cave.  The ground under their feet shook suddenly, and a small pot near Pippin’s feet shuddered and fell over.

“Not just Orcs,” Frodo observed, “but storms as well.  Feel how everything shakes when the lightning strikes out there.”

“Come get warm,” Elladan called out as he kindled a small blaze.  Frodo sighed with relief.  He went to the pile of clothing and returned the phial to the pocket of his jacket, then hurried to warm himself at the fire.

“I don’t think these are natural caves,” Merry said suddenly.  He was examining the walls, which were smooth and showed signs of craft.  “The Dwarves must have dug these.  Perhaps these caves provided ventilation for the city far below the mountain.”  He walked deeper into the cavern, trying to peer into the gloom of the long dark before them. 

“Moria,” Frodo sighed.  He stepped away from the fire to run a hand along the smooth wall.  “I hoped never to be anywhere near it again.”

Pippin went to inspect a large, Dwarvish lantern, leaning against a wall and too heavy for him to lift.  “I need a hand with this,” he said, then looked about, frowning.  “Now, where has Merry got to?”

“I’ll get him,” Frodo said, making his way carefully to where he had last seen Merry.  “Pip, how much food do you have in your---”

The entrance was suddenly illuminated with a blinding light, followed by an explosion of sound.  Within seconds, there was another searing flash of light, and a blast shook the cave and knocked Frodo onto his hands and knees into a shallow pool of water.  A part of the wall near him abruptly gave way, showering him with small rocks, and a great wooden cask near him crashed to the ground and shattered -- a second teetered, and threatened to fall at any moment.  He heard Merry calling his name, but before he could respond, a third bolt of lightning hit, this time directly above the cave.  Frodo had one brief, horrified sight of Pippin being buried beneath a shower of debris before swirling dust obscured his vision.  The cavern continued to shudder and shake, then there was a sudden, loud crack and a cry of pain from Elladan.  Before Frodo could get to his feet, something hit him from behind, and he knew no more.

A tall figure bearing a lit torch emerged from the depths of the cave, and surveyed the damage.

“The entrance is nearly blocked,” he said, “but there is still a passage through to the outside.  We will leave here when the weather clears.  We were most fortunate, Worm, that the entire cave didn’t---”

“Master!”  A second figure approached, holding something in his arms.

“Ah,” the tall one murmured, passing his torch close to the small face.  “And what are you doing here, Halfling?”

“Saruman!” Merry gasped.  Dizzy, and his ears still ringing from the explosive sounds, he struggled to free himself from the arms that held him in a remorseless grip.  “Let me go!”

“I remember you,” Saruman murmured.  “You were one of the Halflings who…”  His dark eyes suddenly burned with malice.  “Worm!  Bind him!”  His servant threw the dazed Merry to the ground, then tore a strip from his filthy robe and bound the hobbit’s hands in front of him.  Saruman turned in a slow circle, looking more closely at the piles of rock and debris that now littered the floor of the cave.  He strode over to a nearby wall, and discovered a small body on the ground.  From the trail of water and dirt, he surmised that the Halfling had been in the process of dragging this one away from the puddle in which he lay when Wormtongue had grabbed him.

“Another one,” he murmured, examining the unconscious hobbit’s pale face and dark hair. “He is not familiar to me.  Our luck has changed, Worm.”  He turned to his servant and motioned to the still form at his feet.  “He lives.  Bind him as well.  There is much to be learned from them.”  As Wormtongue moved to obey, Saruman looked around and smiled slowly.  “And what have we here?”  Nearby, he could see that an Elf lay by the remains of a small fire.  A heavy beam had fallen, and its end lay across his chest, pinning him beneath it.

Wormtongue threw Frodo down next to Merry, then came to Saruman’s side.  His master motioned to the hobbits.

“Take them, that one first.”  Saruman pointed to Merry, who was frantically trying to see if Frodo was badly injured.  “Be sure to secure them so they cannot escape.  I will join you shortly.”

“What of the Elf?”

“I have no interest in an Elf.”  Saruman walked over to where Elladan lay, semi-conscious, and crouched down to gaze dispassionately at him.  “Besides,” he said softly, “he is dying, is he not?  Yes, I believe he is.”  He smiled as Elladan’s eyes fluttered open and beheld him, and he stared deeply into the Elf’s eyes.  “It grows dark and cold.  Let the darkness take you, Elf.  Even now, you can feel your heart faltering, slowing, each breath an effort…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam and Elrohir had dashed back to camp just as the storm broke, their arms and packs full of plants that they had spent the morning gathering.   They laughed and talked as they worked together (while keeping worried eyes on the continuing rain), arranging leaves and roots on the drying rack they had assembled.

“I am glad we discovered this,” Elrohir said, picking up a few precious leaves of athelas.  “Or rather I should say, I am glad you discovered this.”

“I remember when Strider told us he had found some by the smell,” Sam said, “and that’s a good way to locate it.  I won’t never forget the smell of this, not ever.”  He looked thoughtful.  “But I thought this only worked if Strider used it.”

Elrohir smiled down at the gardener.  “It is a plant, Sam, and retains its virtues even in unskilled hands.  However, the hidden properties of any healing plant are enhanced by the skill of the healer wielding it -- and Aragorn has certain ‘ hidden properties’ of his own, does he not?”

“He surely does,” Sam grinned.  He reverently tied the small bunch of the long leaves to the rack, then looked up in alarm as Elrohir suddenly gasped, his hand tightening on the hobbit’s shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I… I can’t…” Elrohir clutched his chest, his face contorted in pain, then dropped to his knees.

“Lord Elrond!  Gandalf!”  Sam cried out to the Elf Lord and wizard, talking some distance away, and they hurried over.

“Elrohir,” Elrond said urgently, kneeling and putting his arms around his son, “what has happened?”

“It’s Elladan,” Elrohir murmured, his eyes unfocused.  He looked around, trying to discern the source of his unease.  “Elladan…”

From the stranger’s appearance, and the first sound of his voice, Elladan knew that the person bending over him could only be Curunír, or Saruman, as he was also known.  From the many tales Pippin and Merry had related on their journey north, he had heard in full of the drowning of Isengard, and the effects of Saruman’s voice on the unwary.  Nearly too late, he braced himself mentally as he felt, more than heard, the honeyed words begin to weave sinuously through his mind, binding him as if in heavy ropes, trying to drag him into darkness.  The voice carried such reason, such gentle logic, urging him to let go, allow his painful breaths to slow… cease… it would be so easy…  Desperately he resisted, but it was growing more and more difficult to fight for light… for breath…

The ex-wizard spoke on, his steady, relentless spell washing over the Elf who struggled to stay conscious.  Saruman watched with satisfaction as the anguished face grew paler, the labored breaths more shallow.  Death will soon take this one, he thought to himself.  That fool Gandalf believes me powerless, but he is not the first to underestimate me.  Raising his torch high, Saruman rose to his feet.  He took one last look around, but could see no one else.  Wormtongue had returned from where he had taken Merry, and was now hefting the unconscious Halfling over his shoulder.

“These Halflings may hold the key to a new Age,” Saruman said to him.  The Age of Saruman, he savored silently.

“These three may not be alone,” Wormtongue said nervously.  “What if their friends come looking for them?”

Saruman smiled.  “The rain has washed away any tracks.  I will have all the time I need.”

“To do what, master?”

“You forget your place, Worm,” Saruman said sharply.  “When I wish you to know something, I will tell you.”  With that, he motioned his servant back through the nearly-hidden passage through which they had arrived, and they disappeared into the depths of the cavern.

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Agent Pip:  Of course I’ll write more.  I want to see what happens next, too!

Aiko-chan:  Believe me, it took me nearly two years of happy hobbit writing to feel even remotely comfortable including Elves in my stories.  I find them difficult, as well -- but we learn as we go!  And gosh -- you didn’t have long to wait for the “hobbit peril”, did you?

Ainu Laire:  Believe me, I miss Aragorn as well, after writing so many stories in a row about him and Frodo!  I couldn’t think of a way to get him into this story, though, since he’s off being king and all.  (And thank you for telling me about the typo!)

Althea:  I’m so glad that you feel my characters are “in character”.  I try to write them all as individuals, and I do try to keep a balance of “light and dark” -- unquenchable hobbity resilience is never far beneath the surface.

Ami:  Thank you for your lovely words.  I think “warm and fuzzy and anxious” is a great description of Chapter 1!

Anita H:  Thanks, Anita!  I’ll try not to disappoint.

Anso the Hobbit:  I see Frodo’s new “ability” as fully within the possibility of canon.  In FOTR (“The Mirror of Galadriel”), Galadriel says to Frodo, “…your sight is grown keener.  You have perceived my thought more clearly than many that are accounted wise.”

Aratlithiel1:  If I wonder too hard about where the ideas are coming from, I’m afraid I might scare them off!

Arwen Baggins:  I’m fascinated by the line in FOTR (“The Mirror of Galadriel”) where Galadriel says to Frodo, “You have perceived my thought more clearly than many that are accounted wise.”  I love exploring little details like that!  And as you can see, I’m using your suggestion to give chapter titles in the opening book quotes.  Thank you for that great idea.

AshNight2:  Thank you for saying that this is “a great idea”, because I’m very nervous about this story.  I appreciate the vote of confidence.

BekaJWP:  Thanks, Beka.  I love playing around with strange ideas like this.

Bookworm2000:  Glad you’re enjoying this so far!

Cantora:  I’m with you, it’s been a very busy time recently.  (And many thanks for pointing out the typo -- please don’t be shy about doing that.)

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  Thank you so much.  I hope to make this an interesting tale.

ClaudiaofBree:  I’m excited that you’re excited, Claudia!  Oh how I love the way you worded that -- “Frodo in the hands of the unscrupulous”… Indeed!

cpsings4him:  Thank you so much.

Elendiari22:  I could just hear the Taco Bell chihuahua saying, “How cool is this?”  Is this really cool?  Wowee!

Elentari:  I definitely enjoy showing the spirit that brought Frodo to Bilbo’s attention in the first place, the determination and courage that made him a formidable Ringbearer, and the innate hobbityness and vulnerability that is so endearing to all of them.

elentari*angel:  Frodo loved your hug!  He’s going to need it…

Elizabeth 16:  Thank you so much for letting me know you’re enjoying this so far.

Elven Kitten:  I really appreciate all the enthusiasm, E.V.

Elwen:  Only a true FrodoHealer would have squee-ed over Elrond carrying Frodo!

esamen:  I feel like I’m traveling new ground here, too.  Thank you for the lovely words.

fadagaski:  Thank you for loving ‘my’ hobbits!  I’m absolutely captivated by them.  “I always thought of Wormtongue as a new Gollum, to a certain extent.” -- I feel the same!  He loved and hated Saruman much as Gollum loved and hated the Ring.

Firnsarnien:  There’s no Legolas -- forgive me!  Hopefully I can distract you with FroAngst and other Elvish folk.

Frodolover:  I’ve been wanting to write this story for nearly a year, and I’m happy to finally be sinking my teeth into it.  I’m so glad you’re enjoying it already.

GamgeeFest:  I’m constantly astonished by all the different ways the blank spaces in LOTR can be filled in by fanfic writers.  What a joy!  And I’m glad you enjoyed “Havoc in Hollin”; that was such fun for all of us.

Gayalondiel:  Glad you like this so far.  I’ve never met a LOTR detail I didn’t think could be expanded into… something.

Gentle Hobbit:  I do love weaving canon threads into my stories, or using them as a foundation.

girlofring:  Frodo’s endurance and resilience are inspiring to me, and I love writing about them.

Grav:  A new story for you!  (And I didn’t make you wait too long for Saruman to show up.)

GTA Otaku:  I think the whole idea of “inner communication” to be a fascinating one, and I look forward to exploring it within this AU setting.

hobbitfeet13:  You’re absolutely correct -- I suspect that this will be one of my darker stories; but hobbity resilience and supportive friends should bring everything to a “lighter” conclusion.  And I’m sure I’ll be writing something about Faramir, sometime in the future!

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Finally it’s here!  I look forward to exploring the power of rings in this story.

hyperactive forever:  I can’t promise that the fic will go “ever on and on,” but we’ve got some distance to go yet!

Iorhael:  Thank you for reading, Iorhael!

Jenni:  Thanks, Jenni!  I got Chapter 2 written as fast as I could.

jodancingtree:  Gripping?  Wow!  Thanks, Jo.

Kit5:  I may “grow up” with a story here or there, but there will always be teasing hobbits and fluffy puppies just waiting in the wings, ready to pounce.

Lady of the North:  Wow, you give me such hope that this will be a good story!  I’m inspired!

Laughing Half-elf:  Just last week, I recommended your story “The Mischief Makers” to a friend -- so I was thinking about you!  Glad you’re enjoying this one, my friend.  I’ll try to get Pippin out of any peril I get him into.

Leah Beth:  I’m so happy to still be thinking of original ideas!  I think the Professor’s tale will be inspiring us for years to come.

LilyBaggins:  You’re so encouraging, Lily.  I think I know where this story is going, but I’m sure it will have its own ideas (as usual).  I already want to give Frodo a puppy to cuddle, and I’ll probably need one myself before long.  Saruman.  (shudder)

Lindelea:  Thanks for giving my AU a try, Lindelea, especially given your limited free time to read fics!  I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Little Mouse:  I’m sorry that there won’t be any Legolas in this story, but there are other Elves to enjoy!

Lossenchristal:  Oh wow, I don’t think I ever made anyone sit back and reach for the popcorn before!

lovethosehobbits:  Thanks, tree!  I’m very encouraged!

MagicalRachel:  I’m so glad you enjoyed the Pippin anecdote!  I actually wrote that scene independently, and never dreamed it would end up in this story.

mali2:  Thanks, Mali!  My stories take directions that take me by surprise, as well.

Marigold:  I hoped you’d love that “Pip moment”, Marigold!

Meldewen Ilce:  Thanks so much for your continuing enthusiasm, Amy.

Mish:  I’m continually amazed at the infinite wealth of ideas Prof. Tolkien’s masterpiece inspires.  It’s an honor to be even a tiny part of his world.

Pearl Took:  The seemingly infinite capabilities of hobbits certainly do inspire many of our stories!

Pippinfan1988:  Thanks for adding me to your “alerts” -- that’s such an honor.  Hope you continue to enjoy the tale.

rabidsamfan:  Saruman is trouble, and I’ve wanted to explore his character for awhile now.

Rachel Denise Martin:  Thanks, Rachel!

Rowan:  I’m honored that this AU has hooked you, Rowan.

Sandy K:  Thanks, Sandy.  (And I’m waiting for your next chapter too, you know!)

Shire hobbit:  Yes, getting mental “images” gives Frodo headaches.  (He is sweet!  That’s why I always make sure everything’s all better by the end of every story.)

Tom Fairbairn:  Thank you for your kind words; I’ll try to keep this AU based enough in canon to satisfy.  (And there is a kernal of truth in Pippin’s “winning the war”, isn’t there?  I actually explored this subject more seriously in my short fic “A Matter of Time”.)

Be at peace, everyone!  I promise that no one will die, and that all will be well by the end of the story.  (I would never kill one of our beloved characters.)

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“It is not my part to choose for you; but I will help you as I may.”  Celeborn, The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘Farewell to Lórien’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 3 --- Unexpected Meetings

September 7

“Samwise, wait.”

The Lady’s soft voice had been the only thing that kept Sam from instantly dashing out into the storm, without cloak or supplies, to find his master and discover what had happened.  In a private tent, Elrond was speaking softly with Elrohir while Gandalf, Galadriel, Celeborn, and a restless Sam waited nearby, sheltered from the rain under one of the large, open pavilions.  After a few minutes, Elrond and his son emerged and joined them, Elrohir looking pale and drawn.

“Sir,” Sam blurted out to Elrond, unable to wait another moment, “when are we goin’ after them?”

“Now, Samwise,” Elrond said.  “Elrohir believes that Elladan has been gravely injured, but can sense only that he is trapped in darkness.”  He glanced at Gandalf and Galadriel, and they shook their heads.

“We can sense nothing of Frodo,” Gandalf answered the unspoken question.  “He is either unconscious or…” he looked grim.

“You can all sense him?” Sam asked, puzzled.  “Anywhere?”

“Sam,” Gandalf said, crouching down to address the gardener, “Frodo’s long burden has linked him to us, in a manner of speaking.  When he was nearly caught by Sauron’s probing Eye, at Amon Hen, I was able to “speak” with him and urge him to remove the Ring from his finger.  He did so, of his own free will.  He knew not that it was my voice, as you all believed me dead, but distance matters not.  If he was conscious, I would be able to sense him, and perhaps send him a message.”

“Or receive one,” Galadriel added thoughtfully.  “Gandalf, Frodo must know that this is possible, as well -- however untrained or unskilled he may be.  He will contact us if he is able to do so.”

Sam understood only enough of this to know that there was no time to waste.  “He’s hurt then, is that it?  What are we waitin’ for?”

“Nothing,” Elrohir replied.  “Elladan said they were heading to the foot of the mountain to search for caves, and we will search there for them.”  He gazed eastwards, then turned to Elrond.  “Father, we must go.  Now.”

“We will,” Elrond said.  “Although I doubt any tracks will have survived this downpour, you and I will go on foot so as not to miss anything.  Sam can---”

“Sam can come with you,” Sam declared, crossing his arms in front of himself, “and don’t you be thinkin’ one minute about leavin’ me behind.  I haven’t come this far with Mr. Frodo to stay back here when he’s in trouble.”

“I would not even consider it,” Elrond smiled at him.  “I was about to suggest that you ride your pony, as our pace will be swift.  We will also lead several horses with us in case there are injured ones to bring back and tend.”

“Sam and I will gather supplies, and quickly,” Elrohir said.  “We should bring medicines, and extra food for---”

Celeborn’s sharp eyesight suddenly spied something at the very edge of camp, among the thick trees.  He broke into a run, followed by everyone else.  When Sam caught up, he stared in amazement and dismay at what Celeborn was lifting from the ground and cradling gently in his arms.  The small form was soaked, spattered with mud, and his right arm was covered in blood.

It was Pippin.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Pippin had awoken in utter darkness, confused and barely able to breathe.  There was something on top of him, all around him…  With a sudden, frantic movement that brought a sharp pain to his right arm, he broke free of the dirt, small rocks, and bits of crumbled wall that had nearly buried him, and remembered where he was.  The cave!  He blinked and looked around, but everything was dark and quiet.  “Merry!” he called out, getting shakily to his feet.  “Frodo?”  The only light he could see, the embers from their dying fire, helped to orient him, and he stumbled towards it.

“Pippin?”

Pippin whirled about at the faint, almost imperceptible whisper of his name.  “Elladan!” he cried.  “Where are you?”  He felt about on the ground and located a long branch, then thrust it into the glowing embers.  The dry wood blazed to life, and Pippin raised the fiery branch and looked about.  “Elladan!” He ran to the Elf, and dropped to his knees in horror at the sight of his friend.  Elladan was deathly pale, his face a mask of pain and determination.  Pippin threw the branch aside and pushed desperately at the end of the beam pinning the Elf to the ground, but it didn’t move.

“Elladan,” Pippin said quickly, “I have to find Merry and Frodo.  They can help me move this off you.”

“Pippin,” Elladan whispered, “listen to me.  You must run back to camp and get help.”  His words were halting, his breathing erratic.  “You must tell everyone… Saruman is here.  He took… he took Frodo… Merry…”

“What?” Pippin gasped in amazement.  “Where did he take them?  Were they hurt?”

“I do not know,” the Elf replied.  “I believe I heard Merry’s voice, and someone else… I do not… I am sorry, Pippin.  You must get help, you must…” He struggled to speak.  “So dark… I am… I am fighting… I do not know how much longer I can…”

“Hang on, Elladan, I’ll be right back,” Pippin said suddenly.  He caught up the burning branch once again and stood up, picking his way through the rocks and statuary that lay tumbled in his path.  Scrambling with difficulty up and under piles of fallen debris, he squirmed through a small hole and tumbled down at last into the cave’s entrance.  Kneeling at the pile of outerwear and weapons that still lay in a heap, he grabbed all the clothing, and one of the water bottles, and stood up.

“Oh,” he whispered, suddenly dizzy.  He took deep breaths and retraced his steps back to where Elladan lay.

“This should help keep you warm,” Pippin said reassuringly, covering every part of the Elf he could reach with the driest cloaks and jackets.  “And take this,” he added, pulling something out of Frodo’s jacket pocket.  “It’s got a star in it, you know.  This should help, Elladan.  You must hold on until I bring back help.”  So saying, he thrust the phial into the Elf’s hand, and a light blossomed and grew, suddenly blazing forth.  Elladan grasped the star-glass as tightly as he could, feeling some warmth and energy returning to him as the last remnants of Saruman’s spell dissolved.

“Pippin!” Elladan gasped suddenly.  “Your arm…”

Pippin looked down at his right arm, illuminated in the radiance of the phial, only then noticing the blood.  When the last, powerful bolt of lightning had struck, he had been standing next to one of the heavy Dwarvish lanterns.  A rock had shattered it, and he had been thrown on top of the thick, jagged pieces of broken glass.  One of them had sliced into his arm, and he was bleeding heavily.

“Bind it,” Elladan whispered, “quickly.  It looks…”

“I will,” Pippin said.  “Don’t talk, Elladan.”  He tilted a water bottle to the Elf’s lips and urged him to drink, then set the bottle next to Elladan’s hand.  “Hold on,” he repeated.  He quickly threw every stick and branch he could find onto the dying fire before taking up one of the cloaks and wrapping it around his arm.  Wincing as the pain began to penetrate and throb, Pippin made his way back to the cave’s entrance.  With one look behind, nearly overcome with fear for Merry and Frodo, he stumbled down the rain-slicked path, back towards camp.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Celeborn quickly bore Pippin into the nearest tent and lay the hobbit on one of the beds.  Elrond called out for warmed water, and directed others to bring bandages from the camp’s store of medicines.  He quickly lay several blankets over Pippin, who was very pale and shivering violently, then tore away what was left of the hobbit’s right shirtsleeve so he could examine the small arm.

“Listen,” Pippin whispered, his voice faint, “you must…”

Gandalf sat on the bed, and reached under the blankets to take Pippin’s cold left hand in his large, warm ones.  “Pippin,” he said gently, “tell us what happened.”

“Saruman,” Pippin whispered.  He heard gasps and low murmurs from the others, but Gandalf nodded for him to continue.  “We found a cave, and lightning struck it, I think.”  Pippin winced as Elrond closed his fingers around the upper part of his injured arm, trying to stop the flow of blood.  “I… I woke up, and Elladan was trapped under something heavy.”

Elrohir started to speak, but Galadriel motioned him to stay silent and let Pippin continue.

“I couldn’t free him, Gandalf.”  Pippin’s voice started to shake.  “I did what I could, but he said to get help.  He said Saruman had taken Merry and Frodo somewhere.  He said…” The dizziness intensifying, Pippin felt an overwhelming urge to sleep.  “I lost Merry’s cloak in the forest… it must have fallen.  I ran as fast… as fast as I… but I got so dizzy.  Gandalf, save… save them…”

“We will,” Gandalf assured him.

“Mr. Frodo and Mr. Merry,” Sam said anxiously.  “Are they hurt?”

“Elladan heard Merry, but he didn’t know…” Pippin struggled to stay awake.  “So cold…”

“We’ll find them,” Gandalf assured him.  “And you, Peregrin,” he said sternly, trying to keep the youngster focused, “dashing back here in the rain without your jacket?  What would your parents say?”

Pippin smiled, knowing that Gandalf wasn’t truly angry with him.  The wizard’s blurred face slowly spun and faded as his tenacious grasp on consciousness dissolved at last.  Pippin’s eyes fluttered closed and he slid into darkness.

Elrond touched a finger to the pulse at Pippin’s throat, and frowned.  “This injury must be cleaned at once, and sutured,” he said firmly.  “Something has sliced deeply into Pippin’s arm, causing him to lose a great deal of blood.  Once the immediate danger has passed, he must be watched and kept warm, then given potent teas and nourishment to aid him in regaining his strength.”  He looked grimly at Gandalf.  “I do not wish to delay our leaving, but if Pippin is not tended immediately, he may die.”

“Die?” Sam whispered.

“We will work quickly, Sam,” Elrond reassured the hobbit. 

“But sir, there’s no time to waste!” Sam cried out in anguish, caught between his need to rush to Frodo’s side and Pippin’s need for urgent care.  “We just can’t leave Mr. Frodo and Mr. Merry in that villain’s clutches!  They could be hurt!”

“He is correct, Father,” Elrohir said urgently, “you heard what Pippin said about Elladan.  We must not delay.”

“Go, then, without me,” Elrond decided.  “Pippin needs---”

“I will see to his injury,” Celeborn said suddenly, stepping forward.  “If Saruman has captured the Ring-bearer…” He looked from Galadriel to Elrond to Gandalf, and nodded, as if coming to some decision.  “There is danger, and the guardians of the Three will be needed; I can feel it.  If you would take my advice, it is to take Elrohir and Samwise, and go at once.”

Elrond nodded.  Without another word, Sam dashed off to prepare his pony for travel, while the others hurried to gather what supplies they felt might be needed.  Galadriel gave her husband a quick embrace before she departed.

Celeborn bent over Pippin and lay a gentle hand on his brow.  “You showed great strength in returning to camp so badly weakened by your injury, young one,” he spoke softly to the unconscious hobbit.  “Although not such a healer as Elrond, I am not unskilled, and will tend you well.”  He smiled to himself as attendants brought water, bandages, and suturing materials.  “I would not choose to face your cousins, when they return, should you not be here to greet them.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Frodo woke slowly, at first only aware that he felt both hot and cold, and his hands felt numb.  Forcing his eyes open, he at first beheld a fire, perhaps a dozen feet away, and a strange Man sitting near it, staring at him.  He tried to move, and was startled to realize that his hands were tied in front of him with strips of cloth.

“Frodo, are you all right?” Merry’s voice came from just above him, and Frodo realized that he was lying with his head in Merry’s lap, in some kind of cave.  With a gasp, he sat up, his head spinning.

“Easy,” Merry said quietly as Frodo slumped against him.  “Something hit you when that last bolt of lightning shook the cave.”

“What’s happened?” Frodo looked around, taking in the strange room.  It seemed large, but apart from the Man near them, there appeared to be nothing in it.  “Merry, what…” Frodo’s eyes widened as he tried to free his hands, and realized that Merry’s hands were also bound.  “Oh Merry,” he whispered, turning to face his cousin, “Did you see Pippin?  And Elladan?”

“Shhh,” Merry cautioned him, keeping his voice very low.  “Elladan was pinned under something.  Saruman left him out there.”

“Saruman?” Frodo gasped.  He turned to look at the strange Man.

“That’s not him,” Merry said.  “You heard us talk about Gríma?  Saruman and he must have been sheltering in this same cave, but here in this room, further in.  They came out to see if the storm had blocked the entrance, and found us.”

“What about Pippin?” Frodo whispered fearfully.  “He was---”

“I don’t think Saruman saw him.  Maybe Pip is all right, and will be able to go for help.”

“I hope so,” Frodo murmured fervently.  ‘I’m so cold,” he whispered.  “Dare we go closer to the fire?”

“I begged them to let us sit closer, but Saruman ordered Gríma not to let us near.  I think you’ve got a fever.”  Merry stared at Wormtongue.  “They don’t care.  I don’t know what they want with us.”

Frodo sighed.  “Elrond said last night that he thought I felt too warm.  I’ve been experiencing… strange things.”

“Getting soaked again in that puddle hasn’t helped any.”  Merry tried to press closer against his cousin.  “Listen,” he whispered.  “In case you can get free and run for it, I memorized the turns we took to get here. “

“I wouldn’t leave you, Merry, but tell me, quickly,” Frodo whispered urgently, a strange idea forming in his mind.

“The path was straight,” Merry whispered back, “then we took the first right, then left, then right again.”

“Good,” Frodo nodded.  “I can’t explain just now, but I might be able to let Gandalf know---”

“So you are awake,” came a gentle voice.

Frodo looked up, realizing that a second Man had emerged from a passageway that led deeper into the mountain.  He was very tall, his hair mostly white, and had piercing black eyes.  Saruman.  Everything Gandalf had related at the Council, and the many stories of Isengard’s fall, flashed through his mind.  Frodo took in the strange, shimmering robes, the color of which was hard to discern, and glimpsed a ring on the ex-wizard’s right hand.

“Are you in much pain, my young friend?” Saruman addressed Frodo, his voice kindly and concerned.  “You were both in great danger from further injury when we found you.”

Frodo stared at him, unmoved by his soft tones.  “I am well enough,” he said, “and we would like to leave now.”

“Would you?”  Saruman stood silently for a time, looking thoughtfully at the Halflings.  The unfamiliar one was soaked from both the rain and the puddle in which he had been thrown -- and was shaking with cold, his blue eyes wary and guarded.  The other…

“You wear the proud livery of Rohan, my valiant neighbors,” Saruman spoke to Merry.  “For them to so honor one not of their country tells me much of your valorous deeds.”  Saruman concentrated fully on the cadence of his words, watching Merry carefully to gauge their effect.  He knew that there were few, no matter their strength of will, who could withstand the spell of his voice when directed intently at them alone.  And if he could throw them off their guard…  Saruman motioned to Frodo with disdain.  “Your friend wears no such garb -- did he ride then at your coattails, and play little part in the War?”

Merry glared at the wizard.  “He is beyond all honors,” he declared, stung at such an insult to Frodo.  “He did what no one else could do, not even wizards.”

“Merry!” Frodo cried out, too late.

“Did he?” Saruman asked softly.  He turned back to Frodo and eyed him closely, his gaze resting at last on the hobbit’s right hand -- and its missing finger.

** TBC **

Chapter 4 will focus more on Frodo and Merry, as Saruman reveals his plan -- and how he expects to achieve it.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ainu Laire:  Ah, you discovered the trick to get ff.net reviews to paragraph!  You’re ever so clever; I use the same trick to get the occasional double-paragraph spacing in my fics.

angelsflame265:  The hobbits love how much you’re worried about them, angel!

Anso the Hobbit:  I hope you’re very proud of your Pippin.

aprilkat:  Thank you so much.  I hope everything continues to come across as believable and interesting!

Ariel:  I do tend to bury hobbits in snow and other things, don’t I?  This isn’t such a definitive “avalanche”, but the effects of it will be quite perilous.

AshNight2:  Don’t worry -- our Elladan is a fighter!

bast4:  So many questions!  Love it!  All will be revealed…

Bookworm2000:  Oh my, you certainly pick great background music for your fic reading!

Budgielover:  The part of the story I consider to be AU is the meeting with Saruman.  But I’m gratified to hear that you feel the rest “could have happened”!

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  All the enthusiasm is really inspiring me.  Thank you!

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  Poor shivering Frodo rips me to shreds, too!  I must work on getting him warm and cared for… just not quite yet…

Connie:  Oh Connie, you should pursue all your wonderful ideas!  Pippin did show his special “senses” on at least one occasion, and those are exactly the tiny, overlooked moments in LOTR that I enjoy digging up and thinking/writing about.

Elven Kitten:  You and GTA Otaku are both hissing at Saruman!  I’ve never seen him look so nervous.

Elwen:  What is it about unconscious Frodo that we love so much?  I’ve never been able to quite figure it out…  :)  Thank you for worrying about me, Elwen -- someone should, I think!

endymion2:  That is quite a crowded cave, isn’t it?  Who’d have thought?

fadagaski:  This story did tend to jump right into the action, didn’t it?  Wow, you bring up an interesting point about Elrond and Elros.  Elrond’s grief must have been unimaginable.

Firnsarnien:  Aha, so your weakness is ElfAngst!  But please don’t worry -- I would never, ever, write a story where someone dies.  I love these characters far too much to kill any of them.

fliewatuet:  I’m fascinated with exploring Saruman’s motives and powers (or whatever’s left of them).  There’s a description of Saruman’s voice from The Two Towers that says, “Suddenly another voice spoke, low and melodious, its very sound an enchantment.”  Very interesting…

GamgeeFest:  That cave really wasn’t the best place to go, was it?

Gayalondiel:  Thank you so much for the encouragement.  This is such a different type of story for me to write!

Grav:  I like putting “unlikely” people together, like Pippin and Elladan in this chapter.  I’ll take good care of them, I promise.

GTA Otaku:  With you and Elven Kitten hissing at the villain, I expect to see him twirling his moustaches and tying Frodo to a train track.  (Wouldn’t that be the AU to end all AU’s)  And I think you’ll be very proud of Pippin in this story!

girlofring:  I’m writing as fast as I can, and hurrying to get everyone rescued from their peril!

Hai Took:  That Saruman is rude, isn’t he?  Imagine capturing our wonderful hobbitses and leaving poor Elladan helpless.  Hmmmph.

hobbitfeet13:  Your review is “right on” -- in fact, you’ve caught on to the very core idea of this story.  Go you!

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  I always thought it a shame that we never got to see that phial again once the hobbits started for home.  It’s a very useful little thing!

hyperactive forever:  You wanted to see someone save the day -- how about your Pippin?

Ianar:  I’m so glad to have helped with your own story ideas.  I think you’ll be very proud of Pippin here, and please know that I would never kill anyone.  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be Saruman when Sam finds out what’s happened…”  Hee hee.  I agree with you.

Iorhael:  Elladan won’t die, I promise!  I would never kill anyone.

jodancingtree:  Thanks, Jo!  I hope I can maintain the drama.

Lady of the North:  I promise that I always update as soon as a chapter is ready; thank you for being so enthusiastic!

Laughing Half Elf:  See?  I made sure Pip got safely “home”!  Now for the others…

Leah Beth:  Oh gosh, thank you so much!  Things might get a bit more perilous than my usual tale, but you can trust me, Leah!  All will be well in the end.

Lossenchristal:  (hands you a fresh container of popcorn)  One of my co-workers is a twin, and she says she can sense things about her sister.  I would think that, with sensitive Elves, the feelings would be rather intense.

MagicalRachel:  Hang on, Rachel!  You know I’ll eventually bring everyone (and you) out of the ‘hurt’ and into the ‘comfort’!

Mariole:  Yes, this is a story just bursting with characters who, to different degrees, can speak or feel “mind to mind”.  So happy you’re enjoying it!

Meethrill:  I’m glad you like ‘my’ Elves and evil ex-wizards, Meethrill.  I’ll try to keep the standard high.

Meldewen Ilce:  Help is coming, Amy!

Mish:  Oh Mish, I would never kill anyone!  And Saruman’s plans for Frodo will be revealed in Chapter 4.  Try to hang on until then!

Naiade:  I hope you continue to enjoy the adventure, Naiade!  This tale is a real challenge, but fun.

Pearl Took:  You’re so perceptive, Pearl.  There’s a lot to explore in this story, including how Elrohir, Pippin, and Sam react to being separated (even briefly) from their “other half”.

Periantari:  So glad you’re enjoying this!  To answer your questions, Sam and Elrohir were off in another direction (and much closer to camp), gathering herbs and plants.  And Gandalf (who is a very wise wizard) never left camp at all, and stayed warm and dry.

Pippinfan1988:  Ah, Saruman’s reasons will be revealed very soon.  They make sense… to him.  I’m honored that you picture me scribbling away in my own Red Book!

pipwise brandygin:  I agree, Saruman could have made a lot more mischief, given the chance.  I hope you feel somewhat relieved that Pippin is already in good hands!

rabidsamfan:  Yikes!  There is a lot of peril already, isn’t there?

Rebecca:  I’m so happy you let me know you’re enjoying my stories, Rebecca; and what a wonderful review!

Willow:  Thank you!  And now Pip is unaccounted for no longer, the little hero!

I’ve somehow been able to post four chapters in four weeks (!), but there’s going to be a slight delay with Chapter 5 due to RL time pressures.  I’ll get it written and posted as soon as I can!

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker…” Gandalf (quoting Saruman), The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Council of Elrond’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 4 -- Vision of a New Age

“It was you,” Saruman said to Frodo.  His eyes glittered with barely suppressed excitement.  “You are the one who carried the One Ring to the Fire.”  His tone grew honeyed -- quiet and measured.  “Gandalf would have entrusted the Ring only to someone he knew would succeed in such a hopeless venture.  You are to be commended, my young friend.  Please share with me how you accomplished such a feat.”

Frodo said nothing.

Saruman decided to try another tactic.  He crouched down in front of Frodo and took the hobbit’s bound hands in his own.  “To have carried the Ring for so long, then to have it torn from you, must have brought a great deal of grief and pain,” he continued, weaving a greater degree of hypnotic power into his voice.  He nodded towards Frodo’s missing finger.  “Your ordeal has not been without loss.  I can ease your burden, Ring-bearer.  I can help you to find peace.”

Frodo stared at him, unmoved by the words.  He had heard this voice before, and recognized it.  This was the voice of persuasion, compulsion, words that promised life but meant death -- the voice of the Ring.  He had resisted the spell of words such as these every step along the Quest, failing only twice -- in the Tower, at poor Sam’s expense, and at the end, at the very Crack of Doom.  Although afraid, he knew with a certainty that Saruman’s voice had no power over him.

With a sudden motion, Saruman released Frodo’s hands and grasped the hobbit’s face, forcing Frodo to look at him.  Deeper and deeper into the Halfling’s eyes the wizard gazed, murmuring ancient words of power.  To his amazement, Frodo suddenly broke eye contact, and looked away.  Saruman released him angrily.

“What do you want with us?” Merry asked.

“What do I want?” Saruman asked in amazement.  “I want that which I have always wanted, Halfling.  The One Ring may be gone, but who is to say that another cannot be forged?”

“What?” Frodo gasped.  “Why would anyone forge another?”

“Perhaps you Halflings are foolish enough to believe that all Power has now diminished.” Saruman said harshly, his voice growing more forceful.  “Over the long years, I, too, learned the craft of forging rings of power.  I, Saruman, know more about the One Ring than anyone.”  He stared at Frodo.  “But you, my friend, can bring me even more knowledge.  You, who carried the Ring, who held it, used it, listened to its voice and felt its power.”

“What of it?” Frodo asked, puzzled.  “The Ring is destroyed.”

“The essence of it is what I need to know,” Saruman said.  “You will tell me how it felt, what it weighed, what it whispered to you in the darkest night.  How long did it take the Ring to shrink to fit your finger, Halfling?  When you wore it, how did it appear to you?  How did a plain band of gold channel such power without a jewel to focus it?  These are the subtle things that only you know, and that I require in order to recreate the One Ring.  These are the things you will tell me.”

“Never,” Frodo said quietly.

Saruman smiled.  “There is no one now living who has the skill to craft a Great Ring, save myself.  Sauron believed himself to be alone in this knowledge, but I forged this, in secret.”  He held up his hand, on which a slender band of gold threaded with mithril and gems glittered  in the firelight.  “Like Sauron, I poured much of my power into this -- but I was more clever than the Dark Lord, who was careless enough to lose the One Ring, then dispatch ineffectual servants to retrieve it.  He even underestimated me.”  Saruman glared at Frodo.  “The so-called Wise held a Council from which I was excluded.  Gandalf, that fool, rejected my offers of friendship and assistance.  They sent the One Ring off with you, when it is I who deserved to have it!”

Saruman took a deep breath and regained control of himself, his voice growing soft and cajoling.  “Think of it, Halfling.  A new Age is upon us.  The Three fade, the Elves diminish, and Men now think themselves secure in their fragile kingdoms.  With the secrets you will tell me, I will forge new rings.  Men are weak -- the new Kings of Gondor and Rohan will not refuse the power I offer.”  He smiled coldly.  “If they are foolish enough to do so, perhaps I will approach their children’s children, when the danger has passed and vigilance is no longer what it was.”

Merry stared at him in horror.  “You would start it all over again?”

“You begin to see clearly, my young friend,” Saruman answered Merry.  “The rule of Men will be short-lived unless they see the wisdom of my…”

There was no time to waste.  Blocking out Saruman’s tirade as best he could, Frodo closed his eyes and concentrated on picturing Gandalf’s face, simultaneously filling his mind with an image of the cave, and of tunnels going straight, then right, then left, then right again.  It’s Saruman, he whispered silently, be careful.  But hurry, Gandalf, he knows how to trick Merry.  Pip and Elladan are hurt, please hurry, please…  Frodo’s entire consciousness was suddenly filled with warmth, and a feeling of connection.  It had worked!  He knew that Gandalf had heard him.  But even as images of the rescue party formed in his mind, they were accompanied by fierce, sharp pain, as his headache of the night before returned.  He gasped, and was suddenly taken by a fit of coughing.

Saruman, seeing only that the Ring-bearer was apparently ill, smiled to himself.  This small one was apparently one of the few able to resist the spell of his voice -- but the key to everything this Halfling knew was within his grasp.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Look!” Elrohir said suddenly.  He dashed a short distance off the muddy path and bent to retrieve a sodden piece of fabric lying under a tree.  “This must be the cloak Pippin said he lost,” he said, returning to the group and passing the cloak to Sam, seated on his pony.

“Mr. Pippin must have wrapped this around his arm,” Sam said, shaking his head at the amount of blood that had soaked the fabric.  “It’s amazin’ that he made it back to camp.”

“No more amazing than I have come to expect of any of you,” Gandalf said quietly.  “Whatever Saruman wants with Frodo and Merry, I suspect he will not gain it easily.”

Just then, Elrond signalled from a small glade just ahead of them, in an area where the trees close to the mountain were starting to thin.  He was quickly joined by Elrohir on foot, Sam on his pony, and Galadriel and Gandalf astride their larger mounts.  The rain had at last come to a stop, but the day was grey and chill.

“There,” Elrond pointed straight up to a series of four dark openings in the mountain.

“Mr. Pippin said they found a cave,” Sam said, “but which one did they go in?”

“My guess would be the closest,” Elrohir replied.  “If they sought shelter, they would have taken the quickest route.  He pointed to a faint path leading upwards, and then to the cave nearly above their heads.  “The rain has washed away all tracks,” he added regretfully, “but Elladan is near.  I can sense him.”

“How does he fare?” Elrond asked quietly, coming to his son’s side.  The others began to tether their mounts to nearby trees and assemble the packs and blankets they needed to carry with them.

“He lives,” Elrohir said slowly.  “Something has strengthened him, but I do not think he is now conscious.”

“Lady, you can’t carry that!” Sam exclaimed, astonished at the sight of the Lady of the Golden Wood shouldering a pack.

“I am not as fragile as you might think, Samwise,” Galadriel smiled at the hobbit.

“Forgive me, Lady,” Sam blushed to his ears.  “I never meant to---”

“Wait,” Gandalf said suddenly.  He closed his eyes, concentrating, as did Galadriel and Elrond.  “Frodo…” After a wait that seemed an eternity to Sam, the wizard opened his eyes, nodding.  “Frodo has sent an image of where he is,” he said to Sam.  “He and Merry are being held captive in the cave above us, as Elrohir guessed.  He has shown us where they are, and how to get there.”

“Are they all right?” Sam asked anxiously.

“Frodo is ill,” Elrond answered, “and is frightened for Merry’s safety more than his own.”

“I fear that I have added to his difficulties,” Gandalf said regretfully.  “I wished to let him know that we are near, but he has not been trained to sense our thoughts without it causing him pain.”

“We need to get up there!” Sam cried.  “Now!”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“You think me heartless,” Saruman was saying, “but that is because you do not have the greater vision with which I have been gifted.  Knowledge, Rule, and Order.  These are the cornerstones of those of us destined to guide all lesser beings.  You must trust that we know what is best.”

“We?” Frodo asked quietly.

Saruman motioned to Wormtongue, who preened under the attention of his master.

“All who stand with me will benefit,” the ex-wizard continued.  “My loyal servant will stand high in the sight of all who see him, while those who oppose me will wish they had chosen more wisely.”  His eyes grew cold when he noted Frodo’s expression of disbelief.  “You resist the voice of reason, Halfling, as you resisted mastery of the Ring.  But you underestimate me -- as have so many others.”

Saruman considered what he needed to do.  The Ring-bearer seemed immune to his voice -- for the moment -- but as his illness progressed, he would weaken enough to succumb to his spell.  In the meantime, the other Halfling might prove useful.  Although strong, this other one had already proven susceptible to his voice.  The Halfling’s one moment of weakness had allowed a subtle thread of power to be woven between the two of them, that could now be strengthened and used.  Saruman abruptly grasped Merry by the hair and forced his head up. 

“Face me,” Saruman said, in a tone that compelled obedience.  Unwillingly, Merry looked at him, and was caught in the ex-wizard’s gaze and unable to look away.  Saruman then cupped his hands around the small head, as he had done with Frodo, and gazed deeply into the terrified hobbit’s eyes.  Merry gasped as he felt the hand on which Saruman wore his ring grow intensely cold -- and an icy numbness penetrated deeply inside him.  Without warning, he felt a sickening lurch inside his head, and the glittering eyes that held his seemed to grow until there was nothing but blackness.  From deep within he sensed that his every thought and memory were being ruthlessly unveiled, and he wished desperately to stop it, but the frozen, black void held him immobile and helpless.

Immersed deeply within the memories of the Halfling under his control, Saruman focused on the times Merry had seen the One Ring -- several times when an older relative had used it to vanish; once in the house of a strange being over whom the Ring had no power; and glimpses of it hung about his cousin’s neck.  Saruman drank in the sight of the band of gold -- his first view of it -- but soon realized that this Halfling’s glimpses of it had been too brief, and yielded no new information.  Angrily, he withdrew suddenly from the hobbit’s mind -- with no regard for how such an abrupt action might affect the small one. 

Frodo watched in anguish as Merry gave a strangled cry.  His body convulsed, then went limp.

“What have you done to him?” Frodo cried.

Saruman arose and turned slowly to face Frodo, oblivious to the small form now lying unconscious at his feet.  “Frodo Baggins,” he said, “I now share all of your cousin’s memories.  Very soon yours will be mine, as well.”

“You will have to kill me,” Frodo said defiantly.  “I will tell you nothing.”  He was again wracked with coughing, which made his head pound even more fiercely.

“Ah, but you will,” Saruman said thoughtfully. “Worm,” he instructed, “tie him up over there.”

Grinning evilly, Wormtongue pulled Frodo to his feet and dragged him further away from the fire.  He shoved the hobbit against the cave wall and forced him to sit.

“Why do you stay with him, Gríma?” Frodo whispered.

Wormtongue laughed.  “Saruman is a Power,” he replied.  “You would be wise to give him the information he seeks.”  He fastened the hobbit’s bonds securely against a loop of metal protruding from the cave wall.  “You think you are clever, Halfling, using my name and looking to gain my sympathy, but I listen to no voice but that of my master.  Do not look for an ally here.”

“What has he done to Merry?”

“Look to your own welfare,” Wormtongue said harshly.  “I have witnessed only a few who could resist Saruman the Wise, and none who were weakened by pain or illness endured long.”  He nodded slowly.  “He will find a way into your mind, Halfling.  If you resist, it will be…” He shuddered suddenly.  “It is not pleasant,” he whispered, his face taut with bitter memories..

The cold wall of the cave intensified his shivering, and Frodo tried without success to quell another bout of coughing.  “Please,” he murmured, “may I have some water?”

“Leave him, Worm,” Saruman said sharply.  Without a word, Wormtongue rose to his feet and returned to his seat by the fire.

Saruman walked over to Frodo.  He crouched down and tested the hobbit’s bonds.

“You are alone, Halfling; help will not find you here,” Saruman said.  “Your Elf is dead by now, and your tracks will have been washed away.  I have explored the tunnels nearest to us, and not even the orcs remain.  We will not be disturbed.”  He took Frodo’s chin in his hand and held it firmly.  “Soon, Frodo Baggins, you will no longer have the strength or will to resist.  As you succumb to your illness, your thoughts will grow scattered.  Your feeble defenses will weaken, and you will yield your secrets to me; it is inevitable.  I  do not think it will take long, now.”  He smiled coldly at the shivering hobbit, and lay a long hand across Frodo’s forehead, pleased with the degree of heat.  Frodo’s eyes blazed with determination -- but also a glaze of fever. 

”Indeed,” Saruman murmured to himself, “I do not think we will have to wait very long, at all.”

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Agent Pip:  You’re welcome!  But can I help it if Pippin is such a heroic hobbit?

Ailsa Joy:  Welcome back, Ailsa!  New Zealand probably misses you already.  This story is the accumulation of several unrelated plot ideas that somehow came together in one tale.

Ainu Laire:  You can’t lay a hand on Saruman until I’m finished with him.  (If I ever get inspired to write a something-or-other about Bill Ferny and the King, you’ll be the first to know!)

Ami:  These characters are so real to me/us, it’s easy to get anxious and worried about them.  But don’t fret -- if they’re in my hands, there will always be plenty of ‘comfort’ to go with any ‘hurt’.

angelsflame265:  Oh, I’m so good to you -- giving you so many hobbits to worry about!

Ariel3:  *Hands you super-sized popcorn tub*  Sit back and enjoy the angst!

AshNight2:  Nope, if you want to see character death, you’ll definitely have to read a different author.  Hope you’re not too upset with what’s happening with Merry -- I’ll take good care of him… eventually!

BekaJWP:  Merry didn’t mean to say it, but Saruman’s voice has a power that’s nearly impossible to resist.

Birch tree:  It’s wonderful to hear from you!  I’m so happy you’re enjoying the stories.

Bookworm2000:  We do have a full range of maladies here, don’t we?  And now Merry!  But a full range of maladies just begs for a full range of comfort and healing, doesn’t it?  :)

Budgielover:  “Everyone in the story so far seems to be injured/frightened/lost ... now, why do I love that?”  You’re one of us, Budgie, admit it!  You can’t hide your true nature any longer!  Wait a minute, look who I’m talking to…

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  Pippin to the rescue!  Yay!

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  “My poor, cold, injured hobbits!”  If this was anyone else’s story, I’d be saying the same thing to them, Carcilwen!  I promise that all will be well (eventually), and that there will be lots of comfort and healing for all.

Connie:  I think hobbits are endlessly surprising, which makes them such fascinating characters.  And you guessed correctly about Frodo!

Coolio02:  Poor Merry didn’t mean to give Saruman information!  He’s up against a devious, immortal ex-wizard, after all!

cpsings4him:  Ooh, the evil plan… hope you agree that it sounds like something Saruman would think of!

CuriousCat:  Thank you for the trust!  I will never abandon a story or leave it unfinished.

elentari*angel:  What was I thinking?  Ah, there’s only one solution… (scurries off to make plans to rescue everyone from the angst… eventually…)

Elwen:  Believe me, I would never let anything or anyone distract me from Frodo for long.  FroAngst makes the world go around!

endymion2:  I’m sorry to say that you’re right -- there’s no Pippin in this chapter, but I hope not to neglect him for much longer!

Erisinia Gazelle:  I love your joke!  Let’s see… an ex-wizard and an exiled almost-king walk into a Bree pub, and…  :)

Esamen/Karen:  Oh no, you mustn’t die of suspense!  I need you!  I hadn’t planned on taking the story to Rivendell, as I’ve already written “Return to Rivendell”, but we’ll just have to see where the story wants to go.

fadagaski:  Hope this chapter was FroMerry enough for you!

Firnsarnien:  Nope, no one will ever die in one of my stories -- that way, we can all just sit back and enjoy the adventure!

Frodolover:  Wow, thank you!  I suspect that this chapter answered most (but not all) of your questions.  Much more to come…

GamgeeFest:  I do feel that the Gandalf-Pippin dynamic evolved greatly over the course of the War.  It’s a pleasure to show it.

Gayalondiel:  I’m trying to look after our hobbits, but my gosh, they certainly seem to fall into some unfortunate predicaments, don’t they?

Giu:  Here you go!  I updated as soon as I could.

Grav:  I’m so happy you love ‘my’ hobbits!  I’ll take good care of them for you!

GTA Otaku:  Your Pippin is wonderful!  Thank you for lending him to me for awhile.

Hai Took:  Never underestimate the persistence and resilience of a Took!  (Or a Baggins or Brandybuck or Gamgee…)

heartofahobbit:  No, Saruman has not yet reached the Shire -- but there will be a bit of foreshadowing of that towards the end of the story.

hobbitfeet13:  Celeborn wishes he’d looked after Pippin long ago, if that’s what it took to get him on your “faves” list!  And oh dear, there are several cliffhangers in this story, aren’t there?  How did that happen?

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Hang in there, Lily.  There’s lots of story to go, and I’m afraid your nails won’t survive it!

horseblaze:  Wow, thanks!  In attempting to tell an exciting story, I’m trying not to lose sight of the smaller moments that bring the characters to life.

hyperactive forever:  I’m glad you’re ‘hooked’!  I hope to keep the story interesting and exciting.

Iorhael:  I’ve been intrigued by Saruman for awhile -- I don’t think he came out of the War sane, and seems a fascinating character to explore.

Jenni:  I would never kill your favorite Elf!  (Or anyone else)  Thank you so much for your enthusiasm!

jodancingtree:  Thanks, Jo!  Yes, Saruman was very perceptive about throwing Merry off his guard.

KaliMacNeish:  Thank you for your enthusiasm!

Lady of the North:  Hope it’s continuing to be exciting for you!

Laughing Half Elf:  Whaaat???  You’ve read other fics where Frodo was “a bit under the weather”?  I’m stunned.  *runs off to find these elusive fics…*

Leah Beth:  I’m challenged by writing about characters “we know so little of”, such as the twins and Celeborn.  I’m so glad you feel that everyone’s in character!

Lilybaggins:  Oh wow, Lily, thank you!  I actually consider Saruman to be more evil than the wraiths, since he’s making his own decisions, and the wraiths are under the control of their Dark Lord.

Lossenchristal:  Ah, you predicted a bit of this chapter!  And Pippin gave Elladan just the right thing to help him -- such a clever young hobbit.

MagicalRachel:  Thank you for saying that the story is unpredictable.  I tend to worry that my writing is getting predictable, so it’s a pleasure and a challenge to be attempting something so very different.

mali2:  This is a breaking up of the pairs, isn’t it?  Temporarily, anyway!

Meldewen Ilce:  Ah yes, Saruman is cunning indeed -- and he’s had a lot of time to do nothing but think and plan.

Mish:  The ‘comfort’ part of h/c is everything!  I crave it!

Pearl Took:  To be juggling so many characters at once, as well as writing action occurring in more than one place, is quite a challenge, and I think this is my first time trying it.

pebbles:  Fear not!  I will never leave a story unfinished.

Pippinfan1988:  Lots of characters and rings to juggle in this story!  What fun.

pipwise brandygin:  Ah, the truly evil will find our weaknesses and twist them, as Saruman did with Merry in Chapter 3.  I do love what you said about Sam, that “his loyalty isn’t subservient”.  There’s nothing fainthearted about Sam (or any of the others).

rabidsamfan:  You perfectly caught my attempt to contrast Sam’s haste and sense of urgency with the Elves’ calm and unhurried way of making even a life-or-death decision.  Oh wow -- if you enjoy fretting, you’ve come to the right story.

T-Man:  It’s thetman!  (Omigosh, if only we could publish “officially”!  I’ve love to see some of my favorite authors’ LOTR stories filmed.)

Willow:  Oh Willow, thank you so much.  It’s so odd to be writing a “darker” tale, but folks like you keep me inspired to continue.  I am proud, but also nervous and hesitant about writing something so different and challenging.  *hugs you*

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“Their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven.  Therefore they have ever loved the starlight.”  The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Coming of the Elves’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 5 -- Dreams of Starlight

Pippin opened his eyes to see Celeborn’s face above him.

“What are you doing here?” Pippin asked, confused.  He felt dizzy and groggy, and it took lifting his head only a fraction to realize that he barely had the strength to move.

“This is my tent,” Celeborn said with a smile.  “It is easier for me to look after you here.”

Pippin frowned, trying to think clearly.  He was lying on a comfortable bed in a large, unfamiliar tent, under several layers of soft blankets.  His right arm lay atop the coverlet, and he saw that it was loosely bandaged from his wrist to just below the elbow.

“Do you remember what happened, Pippin?” Celeborn asked.

“The cave,” Pippin whispered.  “Did you… are they back?”  He looked around frantically, but saw no one else in the large tent.

“They have not yet returned,” Celeborn said gently.  He sat on the bed next to Pippin.  “Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, Elrohir, and Samwise have gone to find our lost ones.  It has been but a few hours since you bravely made your way back to us.”  He felt the hobbit’s face, unsurprised to find a slight fever developing.  The deep cut in Pippin’s arm had been full of dirt, and tiny shards of metal and glass had been driven into it.  Although he had thoroughly cleaned the wound prior to suturing, he had feared that infection could not be completely avoided.

“How do you feel?”

Pippin started to say that he felt fine, and wanted to go after Merry and Frodo at once, but the deep, ageless eyes of the Elf Lord demanded truth.  “Dizzy,” he sighed, “and achy.  I feel so… heavy,” he continued, trying to move his arms and legs.  “Sleepy, and a little hungry.”  He tried to smile.  “I don’t feel too badly, really.  Having a cave fall on you isn’t nearly as bad as having a troll do so.”

Celeborn laughed.  “No one would know that better than you, my friend!”  He slid gentle fingers behind Pippin’s head, and the hobbit winced.  “You have a bump here,” the Elf Lord said, “and some bruising on your shoulders and back.  In your haste to assist Elladan, and return to get help, I doubt you even noticed other injuries.”

Pippin sighed.  “I just remember running and running…”

“And falling more than once,” Celeborn chuckled.  “I hope you do not mind that we bathed the mud from you.  Before he left, Sam brought me some of your spare clothing so you might wear something more than a nightshirt.”

“Good old Sam,” Pippin grinned.  He looked down at his bandaged arm, which hurt, but not terribly so.  “Did you do that?”

“I did,” Celeborn said gravely.  “I hope you will not be displeased with my suturing skills.  We use a single thread of hithlain when sewing a wound; it should heal without a scar.”

“Thank you,” Pippin whispered.

“Can you move your fingers for me?” Celeborn asked, touching Pippin’s right hand gently.  He nodded, satisfied, as the small fingers moved.  “Very good,” he smiled.

Pippin watched as Celeborn got to his feet and began to mix various powders in a cup, then add warmed water.  The Elf Lord’s eyes kept straying to the east as he worked.

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” Pippin asked suddenly.

Celeborn looked at the hobbit in surprise.

“Aren’t you?” Pippin persisted.

“Yes,” Celeborn admitted.  “My Lady is always first in my thoughts, Pippin.”

“How long have you been married?”

“A very long time,” the Elf Lord replied.  “I loved her at first sight.”

“Did her family like you?”

Celeborn could not keep from smiling.  The straightforward manner of the hobbits, and their eager curiosity, were an endless source of delight.  He finished mixing the tonic and slid his arm beneath Pippin’s shoulders, gently lifting the hobbit a bit so he could drink.  Pippin found the warm liquid to be surprisingly sweet tasting, and drank it slowly.

“My Lady had four brothers,” Celeborn said with a grin.  “They were wary of anyone courting their sister, therefore I was on my best behavior.”

“Four?”

“Indeed.  Have you brothers?”

“Sisters,” Pippin sighed.  “Three.”  He yawned, suddenly very drowsy.  The warm drink had filled his stomach much as a good meal would, reminding him vaguely of what Glorfindel had given them on the Road nearly a year before.  “What was in that?”

“It is a restorative tonic,” Celeborn said.  “You lost a great deal of blood, Pippin; do not be surprised if you feel lightheaded, or very tired, for several days.  You must rest as much as possible.”

“Please don’t put me to sleep,” Pippin begged.  “I need to be awake when Merry and Frodo come back.”

“There are no sleep herbs in the tonic,” Celeborn assured him.  “You do not require them.  Your body naturally wishes to sleep so that it may rest and heal.  When you wake, I will have nourishing foods ready that I hope you will enjoy, and herbal drinks that will help you regain your strength.”

“Don’t use up all the medicines on me,” Pippin said in sudden alarm.  “The others might be… they might need…”

“Do not worry,” Celeborn said gently.  “Whatever Merry, Frodo, and Elladan may need, it will be ready for them.”

Pippin was unwilling to give in to the heavy drowsiness pulling at him, and tried to keep the conversation going.  “Did you know that the Balrog is up there on the peak above us?”

“Indeed it is,” Celeborn smiled at him.  “And did you know that when the Lord of Eagles brought Gandalf to us, we tended him as I am tending you?”

“I didn’t think wizards ever got hurt.  I mean, not much hurt.”

“Ah, but they do,” Celeborn said with a chuckle.  “And he was a most difficult patient.”

Pippin found that he rather enjoyed the thought of Gandalf lying abed, complaining about itchy bandages and the taste of medicine.  He yawned again, and Celeborn began a soft song.  Pippin had never before heard the Elf Lord sing, and he liked his voice -- low and rich.  He couldn’t understand the words, but they sounded… he could almost…  He fell fast asleep amidst visions of starlit skies and fresh green woodlands.

Celeborn looked up suddenly, his eyes unfocused as his thoughts were filled with Galadriel’s presence and voice.  He nodded to himself, then left the tent.  Elladan was alive, but injured.  An armed guard must be sent, prepared to escort Saruman back to camp.  He paused to look back at the large tent and sighed, wondering how many injured Elves or hobbits might occupy it by nightfall.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam, having squirmed through the same small hole in the debris as Pippin had, finally stood within the cave itself.  He drew Sting, which he had insisted on bringing -- and breathed a sigh of relief at its continued darkness.  No orcs, then.  There was that, at least.  Ahead he could see the flickering light from a dying fire, and it drew him forward.

Gandalf, Elrohir, Elrond, and Galadriel, who had been working feverishly to pull aside as much debris as they could from the mostly-blocked entrance, finally cleared a path wide enough for them to enter the cave, as well -- and allow them to bring out any of their injured companions.

“Gandalf!” Sam cried out, “over here!”

The wizard spoke a soft word, and his staff suddenly blazed with light, illuminating a great deal of the cavern.  All eyes were drawn to where Elladan lay, pale and still.  One end of a thick, heavy beam lay partially across his chest, and Sam was struggling to move it, with no success.

Elrohir instantly ran to where his brother lay, and, asking Sam to move aside, grasped the end of the beam with both hands.  With a hoarse cry, his every muscle straining, he heaved it off his brother’s chest and let it fall heavily to the ground.  Panting, he knelt by Elladan and cupped his hands about the still face, willing his brother to sense his presence.  Galadriel quickly knelt next to Elrohir; she closed Elladan’s limp fingers once again around the phial, then lay her right hand over his forehead.  Sam thought he saw a white flash, then a gentle light seemed to permeate the unconscious Elf.  Gandalf began to build up the fire with the dry wood that was available, and Sam hurried to help him.

Elrond, meanwhile, had moved aside the cloaks and jackets Pippin had draped over Elladan.  He ran careful, skilled fingers over his injured son, perceiving with both body and mind.  “Three cracked ribs,” he murmured, “but that does not account for the weakness I sense.  Much of Elladan’s strength has been expended fighting… something…”

“Saruman,” Gandalf muttered.  “He has little power left, but would not have been able to resist such a vulnerable target.  Saruman has no love for Elves, or any other living thing.”

“Mr. Pippin must have left the water bottle nearby,” Sam said, “and Elladan’s got Mr. Frodo’s star-glass.”

Galadriel was nodding.  “Pippin said that he did all he could -- without quite knowing how, he somehow sensed that the phial would be of benefit.”

“These injuries could have been much worse,” Elrond said with obvious relief, beginning to loosen Elladan’s tunic.

“I will take care of him, father,” Elrohir said, already pulling out long strips of cloth from his pack.  “I will bind his ribs well enough for him to endure the trip back to camp -- once there, we can tend to him more carefully.”

“I will stay with Elrohir,” Galadriel said, her hand still resting gently on Elladan’s forehead.  “Even with the phial to aid him, Elladan nearly spent himself in resisting the cold darkness that sought to take him from us.”  She closed her eyes and smiled.  “Nenya’s power is still strong enough to strengthen and preserve.  He dreams now, and starlight surrounds him.  The healing can begin.”

“Celeborn sensed that all three rings would be needed,” Elrond observed thoughtfully.  “I wonder now what we will discover when we locate Frodo and Merry.”

Elrohir looked around.  “There is so much debris scattered about, I will be able to fashion a stretcher.  We will keep Elladan warm and comfortable until you return.”  He began to bind his brother’s ribs, causing Elladan to stir slightly and grimace in pain.  “Leave us a draught for him, father,” Elrohir continued.  “If he wakes, he will be in great pain; and he will travel more easily if kept asleep.”  He gently stroked Elladan’s brow, and the injured Elf quieted under his brother’s touch.

Sam, meanwhile, was peering into the entrance of a passageway behind them, using as a torch a long branch he had thrust into the fire and set ablaze.

“Is that where those villains took Mr. Frodo and Mr. Merry?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Gandalf said.  “Frodo sent an image of this very spot.”

“What exactly did Mr. Frodo show you, Gandalf?” Sam persisted.

“A long passageway, Sam,” Gandalf replied.  “Then turnings of right, left, then right again.  Apparently he and Merry are being held by Saruman in a large, empty chamber.  We must be cautious; Frodo didn’t know whether or not either Saruman or Wormtongue were armed.”

“I will let Celeborn know what is required,” Galadriel assured him.  “A handful of our warriors, armed with bows, should be enough to escort Saruman and his servant back to camp with us.  It will not take them long to arrive.”

Gandalf nodded.  “Do so, at once.  We may need assistance taking Elladan down that slope, and we don’t know in what condition we will find the hobbits.  They may be---”  Suddenly he looked around, scowling in anger.  “Blast it,” he muttered.  “I should have known.”

Sam was gone.

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ailsa Joy:  Sorry, Ailsa!  I do plan to relieve your “hobbit-worry mode” -- starting with this chapter.

Ainu Laire:  Wow, Saruman had better go into hiding after this fic -- so many of you are ready to go after him with pitchforks!

aprilkat:  That’s it, exactly!  Saruman is so arrogant and “above” everyone else, he has no idea what’s going on under his very nose.  And thank you so much for saying that I show the characters “at the best of their potential” -- that means a great deal.

Arathlithiel1:  I believe Sam will be a tad miffed at Saruman’s treatment of Frodo.  Stay tuned for Chapter 6…

Ariel3:  *now a cold drink to go with all that popcorn*

Athril:  Thank you, so much!  I hope you enjoy the ‘Pippin-ness’ of this chapter.

Bookworm2000:  The hobbits appreciate your hug!

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  I do think that “Sharkey” was out to create as much chaos as possible in the lives of everyone he met.  Grrrrrr.

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  What is Saruman thinking, being bad to your hobbits?  We’ll just have to see about that…

ClaudiaofBree:  Thanks, Claudia!  Prof. Tolkien’s portrayal of Saruman is so good, I’m able to imagine him perfectly.  And…poor Frodo!  We’d better get him rescued very soon!

Connie:  Just for you, I hurried us back to Pippin!

elentari*angel:  I love how you want the hobbits rescued immediately… but not too quickly!

Elven Kitten:  With all your hugs to comfort them, how can the hobbits lose?  :)

Elwen:  Maybe that’s what that encampment for seven days was all about -- a field hospital!

endymion2:  Oh gosh, everyone wants the hobbits rescued soon, and you want “severe obstacles”!  LOL

Esamen:  I absolutely insist, however weakened he might be, that Frodo still show the strength of will and goodness that made him such a formidable Ringbearer.

fadagaski:  I honestly never know in advance how long my stories will be -- sorry!  And I’m honored that this is one of the few fics you’re following.

Firnsarnien:  You’re right, it was high time they rescued Elladan!  And don’t worry -- rescuing the hobbits won’t mean the end of the story.

Gayalondiel:  After this story is over, I’m going to let you have some time alone with Saruman.  I suspect there won’t be much left when you’re finished with him.

Gentle Hobbit:  I’m so glad that Frodo equating Saruman’s voice with that of the Ring seems plausible.  (And his “mind reading” probably isn’t AU!  He did “hear” Gandalf at Amon Hen, and Galadriel did say to him, in Lórien, “You have perceived my thoughts more clearly than many that are accounted wise.”)

girlofring:  Thank you.  I’m so glad you’re enjoying this!

GTA Otaku:  It’s not easy writing such an obsessive, truly evil character, and I wasn’t sure I could pull it off.  Nasssty ex-wizard.

Hai Took:  You’re so worried about everyone, I must get them all rescued, and fast!

heartofahobbit:  Thank you for your lovely words!  I suspect that we all “live” in Middle-earth, to some degree.

hobbitfeet13:  I actually do think that, by the end of the War (if not before), Saruman was truly insane.  I’ll get the hobbits out of his clutches as soon as I can, I promise!  I don’t think there will be any cliffhangers quite as bad as the ones you’ve already lived through, so you can relax.  A little.

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Don’t worry, Lily, hobbit-help is on the way!  *coats your nails in soothing lotion*

horseblaze:  Wow, thank you so much.  It’s difficult for me to write insane (or enslaved) villains, and I’m glad they seem to sound “true” to you.  Oh yes, ‘my’ Frodo will always have a core of steel at the heart of everything.

hyperactive forever:  Gosh, I would never “torture” anyone -- just a bit of angst here or there…!

Jenni:  Hope you enjoyed this Pippin-chapter!  And yes, it was high time they rescued Elladan!

Leah Beth:  It is difficult to keep three storylines going, especially since I’ve never tried it before!  Thanks, Leah Beth!

Lily:  Oh no, Lily, don’t start biting your nails again!  I promise that Frodo will (eventually) be fine.

LilyBaggins:  Fear not, Lily -- I’m running out of evil characters!  It’ll be back to the puppies for me, soon enough.  Hee hee… only a FrodoHealer would applaud Frodo’s “nice fever and cough”.  Love it.

Little Mouse:  Yay for brave Pippin!  And yay for Elladan rescue!  And yay for rescues to come!

lovethosehobbits:  I anticipate your chapters just as anxiously, tree!

Lyta Padfoot:  That’s exactly right!  Saruman utilized his “evil search engine” to mainly focus on the Ring.  Oh wow, I haven’t read the “Unfinished Tales”, but now I definitely want to.

Lossenchristal:  Hurrah for Frodo, indeed!  And you’re right -- it was definitely time to get Elladan some help.

Meethrill:  I love digging up tiny details (like gold with no jewel to focus its power) and working them into a story.  Thank you for noticing!

Melylott S. Banks:  Frodo is so wonderfully brave, as are all the hobbits.  Saruman certainly does tend to underestimate everyone he meets, doesn’t he?  (And Frodo loves your huggles!)

Pearl Took:  Thanks, Pearl!  And I completely agree -- Saruman spends so much time feeling underestimated by everyone, he tends to underestimate everyone else.

Periantari:  I’m afraid that Frodo coughing is nothing more than a plot device so that Saruman knows he’s getting ill (and thinks he can take his time and wait for Frodo to weaken).  Frodo did have a fever the night before, and between the soaking rain and the cold puddle, he’s become susceptible to a quick illness.

Pip4:  Now now, I don’t always end chapters with evil cliffies!  Sometimes, though, they just sneak in there…

Pippinfan1988:  Thank you very much.  (And I love your description of Saruman’s ring!)

rabidsamfan:  The rescuers are getting closer.  Almost there!

Samwise the Strong:  Nothing but gentleness for Merry, from now on!

Willow:  Thank you, Willow!  And I agree -- isn’t it typical of the arch-villain to want to boast about their plans to someone!

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“Come back, Saruman!” said Gandalf in a commanding voice.  To the amazement of the others, Saruman turned again, and as if dragged against his will, he came slowly back.  “I did not give you leave to go,” said Gandalf sternly.  Gandalf, The Two Towers, ‘The Voice of Saruman’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 6 -- Strength and Uncertainty

Frodo looked around in confusion.  “How did we get here?”

Gandalf smiled and motioned to the beautiful field and majestic tree under which they sat.  “It is beautiful, is it not?”

“I’ve always loved it here,” Frodo agreed.  He felt strange -- a bit lightheaded, and so tired…  Was he truly home?  The field surrounding the Party Tree seemed different… vague…

“I’ve been wanting to talk with you, Frodo,” Gandalf said seriously.  “You’ve been so ill, since returning to the Shire, that we’ve had no chance.”

“I’ve been ill?” Frodo tried to remember what had happened in the past months, but a headache was making it difficult to concentrate..

“I’ve been caring for you,” Gandalf explained, “along with Sam and your cousins.  You’ve been having such nightmares, Frodo.  Nightmares about the Ring.”

“Have I?” Frodo sighed, plucking at the cool, green grass that surrounded him.  “I suppose they will fade, in time.”

“The time has come to talk about the Ring,” Gandalf said, leaning closer.  “If you let the memories surface, fully, your nightmares will cease.  You know that I would not advise you falsely.  Tell me about how it felt to wear the Ring.  How heavy was it?”  He pressed a hand to Frodo’s forehead.  “Think about the Ring, Frodo.  Concentrate.”

Frodo shuddered as a frightening pressure began to build in his head.  He tried desperately to remember when he had felt something like it, before.  And when had they returned to the Shire?  Had he seen Bilbo?  Gandalf would never ask about… Gandalf wouldn’t…

Frodo gasped and pulled away from the robed figure.  He rose to his feet and backed away.  “You’re not Gandalf,” he declared.

“Frodo---”

“You’re not!” Frodo cried.  “This is a trick!”  He swayed, feeling suddenly sick and cold.  The face of the wizard blurred and changed.  “I won’t tell you anything, Saruman,” he whispered.  He sank to his knees, his head swimming.  “I… I won’t…”

“You weaken, Ringbearer,” Saruman murmured, with a satisfied smile.  As Frodo’s fever had risen, hastened by a lack of water and warmth, his ability to focus his thoughts, and resist the constant, unrelenting voice, had begun to waver at last.

“You could have ruled the world, Halfling,” the ex-wizard addressed the shivering, semi-conscious hobbit still bound to the icy wall of the cave.  “Those who will not wield power do not deserve it.  When I have forged the next Great Ring, I will not hesitate to use it.”  Saruman’s dark eyes glittered as he envisioned Middle-earth under his rule.  “You and your kind will serve me, and you will no longer recognize your precious Shire.”  He touched his ring to Frodo’s temple, and the feverish hobbit moaned and tried to draw away.  “Yes,” Saruman murmured, “it is time.”  He closed his eyes and prepared for a stronger assault on the hobbit’s weakened inner defenses -- only to be shaken completely from his concentration by a loud shout, a yell from Wormtongue, and a hobbit-shaped blur crashing into him and knocking him over.

Sam had made his way silently down the long, dark passageways, unable to see anything beyond what his torch could show him.  Just as the burning branch he was holding was nearly consumed, he saw a flickering light some distance ahead.  He dropped what was left of his torch, drew Sting, and moved forward.  Coming to where the narrow passage opened into what appeared to be a large cavern, lit only by a central fire, Sam peered cautiously into the room, unnoticed by its occupants.

A man in dirty, torn robes sat by the fire gnawing on a bone to which only shreds of meat remained.  A hobbit lay unmoving nearby, his hands bound in front of him.  Mr. Merry…  But all of this was peripheral to a sight that filled Sam with a rage so intense that he could scarcely breathe.  Another man crouched by the wall of the cavern, his right hand held to a hobbit’s brow and his left convulsively clenching and unclenching at his side.  Mr. Frodo!    Frodo, filthy and shivering, was sitting, eyes closed, slumped against the side of the cave with his hands bound and secured to something protruding from the wall.  Even in the dim light, Sam could see that his master was in pain, or sick.

With a shout, Sam ran across the cavern, intent only on freeing Frodo from the clutches of the villain who had imprisoned him.  He barely registered the other man coming at him, a knife flashing…

As Sam raced towards Frodo, Wormtongue hesitated -- wishing, as always, to keep himself from harm while at the same time maintaining the pretense of valor.  Seeing only a lone Halfling holding what appeared to be a shining knife, and fearing his master’s wrath should he flee, he had drawn his own knife and flung himself at the irate hobbit, only to be met by Sting.  Sam, hardly slowing down, slashed at Wormtongue’s robes, and the man howled in pain as the sharp sword cut his leg.  He retreated, whimpering, as far as possible from the determined hobbit who, to his astonishment, shoved his master aside and planted himself in front of the ill halfling.

“Stay back, you,” Sam said, keeping Sting extended in front of him.

Saruman slowly rose to his feet, glaring at the puny being who had dared to touch him.  “Do you know who I am, Halfling?” he hissed.

“I know you’re that wizard,” Sam replied, never taking his eyes from the figure looming above him.  “Wizard or no, you’ve hurt Mr. Frodo and Mr. Merry, and you’ll pay for it.”

“Is that right?” Saruman said quietly, his eyes boring into Sam’s.  “I think you would like to put that knife down, Samwise.”

“How d’you know my name?” Sam gasped.

“I know everything about you,” Saruman continued, his voice smooth and focused.  “Put down that knife, Sam, and I will release Frodo.  I was just about to do so when you so rudely interrupted me.”

“I… I don’t believe you…” Sam faltered, his arm already lowering Sting.

“Worm,” Saruman called out to his cringing servant, “where are your manners?  Come and relieve our guest of his heavy sword, and make him comfortable.”  Samwise Gamgee, Saruman exulted to himself, the second Ringbearer.  The information I seek is within my grasp.  “You can trust me, Sam,” he continued soothingly, as Sting clattered to the ground.  “We have much to discuss, you and I.”

“Hold!”  A booming voice echoed throughout the cavern, freezing all who heard it in their tracks.  Saruman hissed in anger as Gandalf and Elrond entered the cavern, followed by a half dozen fierce-looking Elves each with arrows nocked to their bows.  Wormtongue yelped and tried to run, but two of the Elves easily subdued him.  Thinking quickly, Saruman pushed Sam aside and grabbed Sting.  Before anyone could stop him, he knelt next to Frodo.

“Do not hinder me, Gandalf,” Saruman said menacingly.  He held Sting’s blade to the hobbit’s pale throat.  “I will kill your precious Ringbearer unless you allow me safe passage.”

“Master, don’t leave me here!” Wormtongue wailed.

“It burns.”  Gandalf suddenly spoke in a clear, commanding voice.  “It sears as a flame.”

With a cry, Saruman dropped Sting, which his mind told him had suddenly flared white-hot in his hand.  Shaking, he stood up as if pulled to his feet by an unseen force.

“Mute,” Gandalf continued in the same tone of voice.  He motioned with his staff first to Saruman, then to Wormtongue.  “Neither of you may speak until I give you leave.”

Wormtongue gasped and clutched at his throat as he suddenly realized that he had lost the power of speech.  Motioning with their arrows for him to precede them, two of the Elves took Wormtongue away while the others quickly surrounded Saruman.  Unable to wait another moment, Sam grabbed Sting and raced to where Frodo lay; at the same time, Gandalf started towards Merry.  Kneeling next to his master, Sam sliced through the filthy rags that secured him to the metal pipe.

“Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, pulling Frodo, fevered and shivering, into his arms, “can you speak to me?  What’s that villain done to you?”

“S. . Sam?” Frodo’s eyes fluttered open and he gazed at Sam in disbelief, his friend’s face hazy and indistinct.  “Are you real?”

“Real as I’ve ever been,” Sam assured him.  “We’re gettin’ you out of here.  Gandalf is tendin’ to Mr. Merry.”  He frantically checked for broken bones.  “Are you hurt?”

“Not hurt, just… cold,” Frodo whispered, “and… hot…”  He started to say more, but was caught in a fit of coughing that left him gasping for breath.  Sam, quickly wrapping his own cloak around Frodo, looked up anxiously as Elrond knelt beside them.  “He’s burnin’ up, sir.”

Elrond lay his left hand upon Frodo’s chest, and his right across the hobbit’s eyes and forehead.  Unsure whether or not he was still dreaming, Frodo saw the same blue flash behind his eyes as he had seen the night before, and the pounding headache that had plagued him began to fade.  He felt so weak, he would have collapsed to the ground had Sam not been supporting him.

“He has a high fever,” Elrond said with a frown.  He concentrated on channeling Vilya’s healing energy into Frodo’s body, and the hobbit’s labored breathing eased.  “Like Elladan, Frodo has spent himself in resisting Saruman’s spells.”

“Mr. Frodo fought off a wizard’s spell?” Sam asked in awe.  He began rubbing Frodo’s hands, which were cold and swollen from their confinement.

“He did indeed,” Elrond said softly.  He held his water bottle to Frodo’s parched lips, and the sick hobbit drank thirstily.

“Thank you,” Frodo sighed.  “Please, see to Merry.  He’s---”

Just then, Gandalf joined them, holding Merry, still unconscious, in his arms.  “How is he, Elrond?”

“Leave him be, Saruman!” Frodo cried out.  He shrank back against Sam as the blurred, robed figure approached him.  “Get away from me!  I won’t tell you!  I won’t let you do it!”

“Frodo,” Gandalf murmured, “it is I.  Gandalf.”  Elrond took Merry, and the wizard knelt and clasped Frodo’s hands in his.  “Look at me, Frodo.  Touch my thoughts, my lad, you can do it.”

Frodo, unwilling to trust his eyes, tentatively reached out with his thoughts and made contact with the being in front of him.  He was immediately enveloped by the same warm, familiar feeling as when he had sensed Gandalf letting him know about the search party. 

“Gandalf,” he whispered, “Forgive me.  I thought you… you were…”

“There is nothing to forgive,” the wizard said gently.  “Saruman wished information from you?”

“Yes,” Frodo nodded.  “He---”

“Wait,” Gandalf motioned.  He looked up at the Elves.  “Take Saruman and his servant back to camp and confine them to an empty tent,” he said decisively.  “See that they’re fed, and any injuries tended, but guard them well.”  Saruman, his eyes glittering with rage and hatred, stalked out of the chamber, followed by the armed escort.

“Gandalf,” Frodo turned frightened, imploring eyes to the wizard, “Pippin was buried, he was…” He steeled himself for the worst.  “Did you… find him?”

“He found us, Frodo,” Gandalf reassured him.  “Pippin was injured, but he was able to return to camp to tell us what happened.  Celeborn is tending to him.”

Frodo slumped against Sam, drained.  “I thought him dead,” he whispered in utter relief.

“It would take more than a collapsing cave to stop Peregrin Took,” Gandalf grinned.

“And Elladan?”

“We reached him in time,” Gandalf said.  “Elrohir and Galadriel are with him.”

“Merry…” Frodo reached out for his cousin, his eyes filled with worry.

“Frodo,” Gandalf said quietly, “tell me what happened.”

“Saruman wanted information about the Ring,” Frodo said, his eyes never leaving Merry’s face.  “He wants to forge another.”

“I am not surprised,” Gandalf muttered angrily.  “Thoughts of the One Ring have devoured him completely.”

“He learned I was the Ring-bearer.  He tried to get into my mind, but I wouldn’t let him.”

“You wouldn’t let him?” Gandalf smiled at him.  “You have grown indeed, my dear hobbit.”

“Then he… he did something to Merry,” Frodo continued.  “Merry didn’t understand, he couldn’t have known…”

“Tell me.”

“Saruman’s voice is like the Ring,” Frodo said.  “Merry didn’t recognize what Saruman was doing.  How could he?”  He took a deep breath.  “Saruman focused all his power on Merry, I could tell.  Merry started to shake, and then he screamed, and… afterwards, Saruman knew my name; he said that he now shared all of Merry’s memories.” Frodo looked in anguish towards his cousin.  “He hasn’t woken, Gandalf.  Can you help him?”

“I believe so,” the wizard said.  “For now, however, we must all return to camp.  Celeborn has probably had to tie Pippin to his bed to keep him from coming after you.”  He was glad to see a small smile light Frodo’s face at the thought.

While Sam was wrapping Frodo in blankets, drawing him closer to the fire, and urging him to drink and eat a bit, Gandalf turned all of his attention to where Elrond was trickling some water down Merry’s throat, a few drops at a time.

“As far as I can tell, Merry is not physically injured,” Elrond informed him quietly.  “He is responsive enough to swallow, but he does not wake fully.”  He frowned.  “I sense some type of shock, and mental confusion.  What has Saruman done to him?”

Gandalf shook his head in anger.  “Frodo says that Saruman invaded Merry’s memories,” he said.  “There are few things more delicate, Elrond, and more potentially dangerous.  Both times I read Frodo’s memories, in Rivendell and in Ithilien, I used the greatest care and gentleness.  I fear that Saruman used neither.”

“Celeborn sensed that all three rings would be needed,” Elrond reminded him.  “Galadriel is aiding Elladan, and I have channeled some of Vilya’s energies into Frodo to begin to restore the strength he expended -- strength he will need to endure this fever until I can better treat him.  Can Narya be used to reach Merry?  You helped Théoden free himself from Saruman’s spell.”

“That is true,” Gandalf agreed.  “I have already tried to bring Merry back to us, but was unsuccessful.”

“You caused Saruman to believe that the knife burned him, and his voice is lost to him until you say otherwise.  Does he then retain such power to entrap another’s mind this strongly?” Elrond asked.  “Did you not break his staff at Isengard?”

“I did,” Gandalf said.  “To penetrate so deeply into Merry’s mind should now lie beyond his abilities.”  He grew thoughtful.  “Saruman learned from Merry that Frodo was the Ringbearer, and tried to read his thoughts, as well.  Frodo may be able to tell us exactly what Saruman did to him, and also to Merry.  I need more information.  Saruman is drawing power from somewhere, or something.”

“Frodo is in no condition to be questioned further just now,” Elrond cautioned, “and Merry is in no immediate danger.  We must return to camp first, and tend to them, and Elladan.”  Cradling the still-unconscious Merry gently in his arms, he rose to his feet, as did Gandalf, and they joined Sam and Frodo at the fire.

“It is time to go, Frodo,” Gandalf said gently.

“I can walk,” Frodo said faintly, but as Sam helped him to his feet, dizziness overcame him, and only Sam’s quick motion saved him from stumbling into the fire.  Gandalf quickly reached down and pulled Frodo into his arms.

“Rest, Frodo,” Elrond said.  “There is much healing ahead, and you must preserve your strength.”

Frodo nodded and relaxed into the wrapping of blankets, relieved to feel Gandalf’s strong arms holding him securely.  His thoughts began to grow sluggish.  “Gandalf…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t… I’m not feeling very well,” Frodo whispered groggily.  “Don’t tell Sam,” he murmured, starting to slide into sleep.  “He… he worries so…”

Gandalf looked down at Sam, standing not a foot away, and winked at him.

“It will be our secret, dear boy.”

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

:)  Your username is short and sweet!  Thank you for reading.

Agent Pip:  ‘Your Pip’ loved your kiss and hug -- now we need to get Frodo and Merry all safe and sound, as well.

Ailsa Joy:  Thank you, Ailsa.  And I’m so glad I could relieve your Elf-worry and a bit of the hobbit-worry!

Ainu Laire:  Don’t wield that pitchfork just yet -- I still need Saruman around for a while!

Amrunofthesummercountry:  Thank you!  And that’s definitely Saruman’s weakness -- the fact that he’s so sure of himself, he tends to underestimate everyone else he encounters.

angelsflame265:  Gandalf did his best to hurry!

Annis:  Ninja Hobbit Sam!  Sounds like a great action figure.

aprilkat:  I enjoy showing things in a new way (such as someone other than Frodo or Sam using the star-glass); thank you for mentioning it.

Aratlithiel1:  Wow, thanks for such enthusiasm.  You wield such power with that Jedi Mind-Trick.

Ariel3:  Can I interest you in this lovely oversized box of Raisinettes?

Arwen Baggins:  I’ll consider putting a Gandalf-healing-in-Lórien story on my to-do list.  But… there wouldn’t be any hobbits in it!  *sob*

bandosax15:  So you’re the reason all these kiwibirds are flying around my apartment!

Baylor:  Thank you for all your wonderful comments!

BekaJWP:  I’m glad you like the way I’m writing Celeborn -- I still find Elves such a challenge.

Birch tree:  We’re getting back to Merry… slowly but surely!

Bluegrass Elf:  I think you’re one of the few readers who enjoys cliffhangers!  :)

Bookworm2000:  It’s interesting to try to bring to life a less-known character like Celeborn.

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  Thank you for enjoying ‘my’ characters so much; I love writing them.

Caricilwen Greenleaf:  Screaming?  Collapsing in a heap?  What am I doing to you??  *hurries to get everyone rescued and tucked into bed a.s.a.p.*

Connie:  I’m glad you think I left Pippin in good hands -- I do my best!  And Sam is pretty capable of handling things on his own, usually; wizards (and ex-wizards) are a tough challenge, though.

cpsings4him:  Thank you very much.  I love writing these stories so much, and what a thrill to know that other folks are enjoying them.

elentari*angel:  That sounds perfect!  With all of us lining up to hug the hobbitses (and Elves), they’ll be well in no time.

Elven Kitten:  You scare ‘em, we can both cuddle ‘em!  LOL

Elwen:  I’m glad you enjoyed the Pippin-Celeborn scene.  I really enjoyed writing it.

Esamen/Karen:  I like not being completely predictable!  In “Quarantined”, Frodo had a healthy childhood (gasp!), and now, the occasional medicine gets to be nice tasting!  I suppose you’re right about the cliffhangers, although I try to write some chapters without them.  And oh, what a lovely review.  Thank you.

fadagaski:  Silly, wonderful Sam!  How we love him.

Firnsarnien:  I don’t think Galadriel and Elrohir would mind your assistance with Elladan!  You can hold his hand for awhile… maybe a gentle kiss…

GamgeeFest:  LOL!  You’re not the only one who wants a sick-and-grumpy Gandalf story.  It is a cute notion…

Gayalondiel:  You and Arwen Baggins!  If I ever write a Gandalf-in-Lórien story, you two will be the first to hear about it.

Gershwhen:  I always try to treat the characters with respect, whether they’re hobbits or not.  And I enjoy bringing unlikely people together (such as Pippin and Celeborn), just to see what happens.

girlofring:  There certainly are a lot of powerful emotions coming out amongst our characters, but I doubt that anyone is quite as angry, now, as Saruman.  Another of his beautiful plans foiled!

Grav:  Galadriel -- described in The Silmarillion as “most beautiful of all the House of Finwë -- was probably quite a prize, and I suspect her brothers would have been most protective of her!

GTA Otaku:  Sam to the rescue, indeed!

Hai Took:  I do love to throw unlikely combinations of people together; it makes for such unexpected conversations.

hobbitfeet13:  Yes, the good old Silmarillion.  I’m being drawn to it for research purposes more and more, at least for the somewhat complex fics like this one.  And… wise or unwise, there’s no holding Sam back.  I tried!

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Sorry, I just couldn’t hold Sam back any longer!

horseblaze:  Indeed, they would have had to tie Sam up in a sack to keep him from rushing to Frodo’s aid.

hyperactive forever:  Go right ahead with the torture -- as long as we can cuddle them afterwards!  :)

Ianar:  Thank you for the “Happy Writing” good wishes.  Writing about hobbits always makes me happy, and what a joy to be able to share these stories with folks sweet enough to beg for more.  This chapter didn’t go exactly how you hoped it would (you and your evil chuckle!), but I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

illyria-pffyffin:  Thank you!  Now that I’ve gotten into the heads of ringwraiths and deranged ex-wizards, I think I can take a break from villainy for awhile.  Nassssty villains…

Jenni:  I had no idea that Elladan had such loyal fans!  I’m happy to be giving you a story with him in it (and Pippin, of course).  :)

jodancingtree:  What are we to do with Sam?  Always thinking from his heart (bless him!).

Laughing_Half-Elf:  I never dreamed I could write about Elves in a believable way.  As long as there are hobbits about to keep me grounded, it’s a bit easier.  :)

Leah Beth:  I hated being away from Frodo and Merry for a whole chapter!  And I do believe that it’s Sam’s “nature” to look after and protect Frodo.  In The Two Towers, he realizes that, “He knew now where his place was and had been: at his master’s side, though what he could do there was not clear.”

Little Mouse:  I believe that Elladan and Elrohir are bonded strongly -- another example of “mind to mind” communication in this fic.

Lossenchristal:  That Sam is a clever one.  I like how Prof. Tolkien described Sam’s “slow but shrewd mind”.

MagicalRachel:  This story is taking twists and turns I hadn’t even planned, Rachel!  I’m still not sure how that happens.

Marcee:  Yes, we’re finally getting back to your beloved Merry -- sorry to have kept you in suspense for so long.

Meldewen Ilce:  Saruman probably can’t conceive of the concept that people will rush into danger to save the ones they love.  Silly ex-wizard.

Melylott S. Banks:  I couldn’t wait to “get back to Frodo” either!

Pearl Took:  I thoroughly enjoyed writing the Pippin-Celeborn scene.  They’re so different from one another, and yet are able to find common ground.

Periantari:  I have to keep feeding your chapter hunger!  *types away busily*

Pip4:  Hobbit angst/comfort is just about my favorite type of story!  Especially the ‘comfort’ part.

Pippinfan1988:  I really have no idea if I’m writing the Elves well or not, but I do think that constant exposure to hobbits (especially Pippin) would soften up even the noble Lord Celeborn.

pipwise brandygin:  I’m glad you’re enjoying the “Pippin parts”!

rabidsamfan:  I doubt there’s a leash in Middle-earth that would hold Sam, if Frodo was in danger.

Samwise The Strong:  Merry and I both appreciate all the love!

SapphireMeriadocTook:  Yeep!  And yes, leave it to Pippin to break down all communication barriers between Elf and hobbit.

Tathar:  Hello, my dear muse!  I’m so happy you’re enjoying the story.  And (of course) I completely share your view of Frodo -- he is strong, courageous, and amazing, and Bilbo and Gandalf knew it all along.

The Lady Shieldmaiden:  Oh, your poor nails!  I’ll try to get things calmed down a bit.

Willow:  Pippin and Celeborn are cute together, aren’t they?  I’ll try to write them another scene before the end of the story.

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“You have talked long in your sleep, Frodo,” said Gandalf gently, “and it has not been hard for me to read your mind and memory.”  Gandalf, The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘Many Meetings’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 7 -- Questions and Answers

Gandalf, with Frodo in his arms, and Elrond with Merry, rode back to camp on the horses they had left at the bottom of the slope -- with an anxious Sam following close behind on his pony.  Halfway back, they passed Galadriel and Elrohir.  Celeborn had sent Elves to help bear Elladan back to camp, but Elrohir tightly gripped his end of the sheet of metal on which his brother lay, sedated, and would not relinquish it to anyone.  The entire way back, walking slowly alongside the litter bearers as they smoothly traversed the muddy path, Galadriel walked beside Elladan, holding his hand and singing softly.

Celeborn met Gandalf, Elrond, and Sam when they arrived, and Gandalf passed Frodo, shivering even in his sleep, into the Elf’s waiting arms.

“All is prepared,” said Celeborn, walking quickly towards the tent which now served as the center of healing for the camp.  Gandalf and Elrond walked beside him, while Sam nearly ran to keep up.  They all noticed that one of the smaller tents was completely surrounded by Elves, armed and alert.

“They brought Saruman and his servant a short time ago,” Celeborn explained.  “His servant’s injured leg has been seen to, and food has been brought to them.”

“It’s more’n they deserve,” Sam mumbled to himself.

“What will you do with them?” Celeborn asked Gandalf, as the wizard held open the tent flap for them to enter.

“That remains to be seen,” Gandalf replied.  “Saruman cannot be permitted to leave until I learn what I need to know about what he has done to Merry.”

Elrond lay Merry down gently on one of the beds Celeborn had prepared.  “What of Pippin?” he asked, his eyes coming to rest on the small, curly-headed form on a nearby bed.

“He sleeps.  I doubt he will be strong enough to leave his bed for some days, although he will try to convince us otherwise,” Celeborn said with a small smile.  “He has a fever, but not nearly as high as Frodo’s.”  He could feel the heat radiating from the small body in his arms, and he lay Frodo on a bed next to Merry’s before unwrapping the blankets and beginning to remove the hobbit’s clothing, still damp and dirty from the cave-in.  “I have brought in warmed water to bathe Frodo and Merry, and perhaps it will also help to reduce Frodo’s fever somewhat.  We will keep him warm and watch him closely this night.”  He turned to Sam, who was watching Frodo anxiously.  “Sam, is that athelas I saw on the drying racks?”

“Yes sir,” Sam said.  “Elrohir and I found some this mornin’.  Will you need it?”

“Perhaps,” Celeborn said thoughtfully.  “There are many to tend.  It is good to have it at hand, in any event.”

Sam sighed wearily.  “Mornin’ seems so long ago, now.”

Gandalf put a gentle hand on the hobbit’s shoulder, and smiled.  “Wash and eat, Sam, and go to your tent for some rest.  You can return later and help us to---”

“I’ll be restin’ here, sir, if you don’t mind,” Sam said firmly.

Elrond looked up, suddenly, and left the tent.

“They are returning with Elladan,” Gandalf told Sam.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Shhh, shhh.  Stay still.”

Elrohir lay a gentle hand on his brother’s brow as Elladan awoke.

“What---”  Elladan blinked as the blur above him slowly resolved into his brother’s face.  He tried to take a deep breath, but was met with pain and pressure.

“I know it hurts,” Elrohir said, concerned.  “I had hoped you would sleep through the night.”

“It is evening,” Elladan murmured, groggy from the sleep draught he had been given in the cave.

“Yes,” Elrohir replied.  “You are in grandfather’s tent.  Pippin told us of your plight, and we were able to reach you in time.”

“Pippin,” Elladan whispered.  “He was badly hurt, worse than he knew.  Is he well?”

Elrohir motioned, and Elladan turned his head to the left.  There, in a bed next to his, Pippin lay asleep, his bandaged arm resting atop the blankets covering him.  The hobbit’s face was flushed, and he tossed restlessly.

“His wound was grave, and grandfather says he nearly bled to death before he reached us,” Elrohir said quietly.  “He is still very weak, and is fevered -- but he will recover.”  He smiled at his brother.  “If all of the tales are true, he has survived blizzard, a tree of black heart, the ancient ones of the barrows, Orcs, trolls, and an encounter with the Dark Lord himself.  And, most distressing of all, long periods of short rations -- a sore trial for any hobbit.”  He was glad to see his brother smile back at him.  “Do not fear for him -- we are tending him as carefully as you.”

“And… the others?” Elladan asked anxiously.  He watched his brother’s smile fade.

“They are here, as well,” Elrohir said.  “Gandalf, father, and Sam rescued them from where they had been imprisoned by Saruman.  Frodo is very ill,” he continued.  “Saruman discovered that he was the Ringbearer, and tried to get information from him.  He seeks to forge another of the Great Rings.”

Elladan’s eyes blazed with anger.  “No!  He cannot be permitted to---”  He caught his breath as his sudden movement intensified the pain in his chest.

“Lie still,” Elrohir said gently.  He took his brother’s hand and let him feel the bandages wrapped about his chest.  “You have several broken ribs, and a rather amazing number of bruises.”  He raised Elladan’s head slightly and gave him water to drink, followed by a few sips of a potent, painkilling tea.

“Gandalf will see to it that Saruman does no more harm,” Elrohir assured his brother.  “However, Frodo was damp and chilled when captured, and denied water.  His strength was spent, much as yours was, in resisting Saruman.”  He shook his head worriedly.  “He burns with fever, and father is doing what he can.”

“And Merry?”

“I do not fully understand what has been done to Merry; he appears uninjured, but does not wake.”  Elrohir sighed.  “Saruman was not gentle in his treatment of the hobbits.”

“I should have protected them,” Elladan moaned.

“Elladan…” Elrohir sat carefully on the bed and took his brother’s hand again.  “You were trapped, and injured.  There is nothing you, or anyone else, could have done.”

He looked up, briefly, to where Gandalf and Elrond stood nearby, having a quiet conversation.  “Gandalf believes that Frodo may hold the key to helping Merry.” 

“What of Saruman?”

“He is being guarded nearby, along with his servant.  Gandalf has rendered them both temporarily mute so that no one else can be swayed by the voice of either.”

“His voice…” Elladan shuddered.  “I have never felt such… it was as if a serpent was winding its way through my very thoughts, replacing what I felt and believed with doubt and confusion.”

“That is the way Bilbo has described the voice of the dragon he encountered,” Elrohir said thoughtfully.  “Saruman’s servant is well named  ‘serpent’s tongue’.”

“I fought,” Elladan murmured.  As the tea began to dull the pain, the remaining sleep draught still in his system started to take hold once again.  “I knew… you would come…”

“I felt your distress,” Elrohir said with wonder.  He looked suddenly grim and tired.  “You are strong, my brother, but I feared that you might be lost to us before we could come to you.”

Elladan gave his brother’s hand a reassuring squeeze and tried to change the subject.  “Did you find your herbs?”

“Yes,” Elrohir smiled, “fortunately.  Little did Sam and I think that they would be so quickly needed.”

“Save them for the hobbits.” Elladan’s eyes fluttered closed as he grew drowsy.  “I won’t need… I’m just a bit… tired…”

“Sleep,” Elrohir whispered, “you are safe.  Sleep… that’s it…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Merry!”  Pippin came suddenly awake and sat straight up in bed, only to be overcome by dizziness so intense that he felt nauseated.  He scrunched his eyes shut as everything spun and blurred before him, and would have toppled back onto the bed had strong arms not guided him gently back down.  Pippin reached out for something to cling to, something to anchor him.

“I’m here, Mr. Pippin.”  Sam’s voice came out of the haze, and a small, firm hand clasped his.

“Sam,” Pippin whispered, “I had the most awful dream about Merry.”  He cautiously opened his eyes and saw that it was Elrohir who had steadied him, and was tucking the blankets about him again.  “What time is it?”

“It’s near suppertime,” Sam said.  “High time you woke and ate somethin’, Mr. Pippin.”

Pippin nodded, and Elrohir smiled and left to bring a light meal for him.

“Sam,” Pippin whispered, “what’s happened?  It’s evening already?  Where are Merry and Frodo?”

“They’re here,” Sam said carefully.  “Mr. Frodo’s pretty sick, and Mr. Merry---” He tried not to wince as Pippin squeezed his hand tightly.

“Something terrible has happened, hasn’t it?” Pippin asked anxiously.  He tried to twist around to see what was going on around him, and the first person he saw was Elladan, sleeping in a nearby bed, with Elrohir seated next to his brother.  “Is Elladan all right?”

”Thanks to you,” Elrond said, coming to stand next to Pippin’s bed.  “He has several broken ribs and must regain his strength, but he is healing.”  He felt Pippin’s forehead.  “You need to rest, Pippin; the dizziness may be with you another day, at the least.”

“Please,” Pippin said pleadingly, “what about Merry?  And Frodo?”

“Frodo is ill,” Elrond said.  “His…encounter… with Saruman has left him very weak, and we are waking him only to take liquids and nourishment.  It is difficult for him to stay awake.  Someone will be with him at all times, Pippin.  Frodo is very strong willed, as you know, and as soon as the fever breaks, the danger will have passed.”

“And… Merry?” Pippin whispered.  “Tell me, please.  I know something has happened.”

Elrond met Pippin’s worried gaze with compassion and wisdom.  “Saruman injured Merry, Pippin.  He sought information from Merry’s mind, and was not gentle.  Merry has been unconscious since we found him.”

“But…” Pippin tried to understand what he had heard.  “You can help him, can’t you?  Can someone call him back, like Strider did for him in Minas Tirith?”

“That is exactly what we hope to do, as soon as we understand more about what has happened.”

“Why did Saruman hurt them?” Pippin asked, with tears in his eyes.

“He sought information about the One Ring,” Elrond explained.  “He wishes to forge another.”

“Don’t let him,” Pippin whispered.

Elrond smiled at the hobbit’s simple wisdom, and took Pippin’s hand.  “We will not.”

Elrohir approached Pippin’s bed with a tray of food.  “Do you feel well enough to eat?”

“I want to see Merry,” Pippin insisted.  He tried to sit up again, and this time it was Elrond who steadied him as the room spun.  “Please,” he whispered.

Elrond nodded.  “I believe that would be good for both of you.”  Being careful of Pippin’s injured arm, he very gently and smoothly lifted the young hobbit and carried him to where Merry and Frodo lay.  He put Pippin down next to Merry, and propped him up with pillows while Elrohir brought the tray.

As hungry as he was, Pippin first took a good, long look at Merry, lying to his left.  His cousin had been bathed and dressed in clean clothes, and had the appearance of being simply asleep -- not grey and ill as he had been after stabbing the Witch-king.  Pippin sighed with relief.  “Merry,” he whispered.  He weakly reached out with his uninjured arm to stroke his cousin’s hair.  “I’ll watch over you, Merry, and you’ll wake soon, you’ll see.”  His eyes strayed worriedly to Frodo, who lay nearby.  Sam had returned to his master’s side, helping to keep Frodo cooled down with damp cloths as the weakened hobbit slipped in and out of sleep.

“Do you wish your cousins to wake, and find that you have starved to death, young one?”

Pippin looked up as Celeborn came to sit with him, and the Elf lord uncovered the dishes on the tray.  He had guessed correctly that, between Pippin’s injured arm and the weakness caused by blood loss, the youngster lacked the strength to feed himself, but hadn’t wanted to admit it.

“May I help you?” Celeborn asked, beginning to cut up small portions of meat and steamed vegetables.  “Perhaps you would enjoy hearing about how Elrond came to court our daughter.”  He smiled as Elrond’s back stiffened suddenly.  “My valor in courting a lady with four brothers was as nothing compared to…” Pippin was so immediately caught up in the story, he allowed himself to be fed without protest.  Celeborn wove his tale in a soft, gentle cadence until Pippin fell asleep, curled up next to Merry.  The Elf Lord covered the young hobbit with a blanket against the cool air of evening, and joined Elrohir at Elladan’s bedside.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Earlier, Elrond and Celeborn had gently bathed Frodo of the dirt from the cave, after which they had thoroughly examined him.  Like Pippin, Frodo had some swelling at the back of his head from being struck during the cave-in, and his wrists were raw from struggling against his bonds.  Frodo had awoken during the bath, frantic to escape the arms that were holding him, but the warm water, the Elves’ soothing words, and Elrond’s continued channeling of healing energies served to ease the hobbit’s slight delirium and relaxed him into a deep sleep.  Celeborn lifted Frodo out of the bath and lay him on one of the beds, soothing the abraded wrists with an herbal balm.  Frodo was then dressed in nightclothes and wrapped warmly in blankets.  Elrond had been briefly rousing the feverish hobbit at intervals to give him herbal drinks and spoonfuls of a thick, nourishing soup, but otherwise, letting him rest.

Sam looked up warily as Gandalf and Elrond approached his master’s bed.

“I must awaken him, Sam,” Gandalf said.

“Are you sure you can’t let him sleep some, Gandalf?” Sam asked fretfully.

“Sam is correct, Gandalf,” Elrond agreed.  “Perhaps in the morning---”

“This cannot wait,” Gandalf said firmly, seating himself on Frodo’s bed.  “The longer Merry’s mind is allowed to wander, lost and confused, the greater the risk.”

“Can’t you just… find out what you have to?” Sam asked.  “Without wakin’ him?”

“Yes, I can,” Gandalf agreed, “but I choose to gain Frodo’s permission to do so, if at all possible.”

Gandalf gathered up the ill hobbit and settled him against his chest.  Without waking, Frodo sighed and nestled comfortably against the familiar robes.  Elrond reached for one of Frodo’s hands, and gently rested his finger on the inside of the small wrist.

“Frodo,” Gandalf said softly.  He stroked the hot face with a gentle finger, and Frodo slowly opened his eyes.

“Sam...”

“I’m here, sir,” Sam said.  He stepped closer to the bed so Frodo could see him.

“Gandalf?” Frodo asked, confused.  He looked around.  “Where’s Merry?”

“He is here,” Gandalf said.  “How are you feeling, my boy?”

“Hot,” Frodo sighed.  “Tired…”

“Forgive me, Frodo, I know that you wish to sleep -- but there are questions only you can answer to help me understand what has happened to Merry.  Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Frodo,” Gandalf began, “since my encounter with Saruman at Isengard, he should no longer have the power to have affected Merry so strongly.  I need to know---”

“It’s his ring,” Frodo said at once.  “Didn’t you see it?  Saruman was boasting; he told us that he forged it in secret, and poured some of his power into it.”

“That is the answer, Gandalf,” Elrond realized.  “When you broke Saruman’s staff, he had already transferred much of his power to a ring, as Sauron did.  As long as his ring endures…”

“…his power endures,” Gandalf muttered, “or what is left of it.  I am a fool.  It was right in front of me all along.”  He looked down at Frodo again.  “Frodo, would you give me permission to share one of your memories?  I need you to recall everything Saruman said about his ring, and how he used it.  No, you needn’t speak -- just think about it.”  Frodo nodded, and the wizard lay a hand on Frodo’s brow as the hobbit closed his eyes and tried to remember everything Saruman had said and done, both to himself and to Merry.  After a few moments, Gandalf nodded thoughtfully.

“Frodo,” Gandalf said quietly, stroking the dark curls, “I never cease to be amazed by what hobbits can accomplish.  To have endured as long as you did against the voice of Saruman shows rare strength.”

“Gandalf,” Elrond interjected, still monitoring the hobbit’s pulse, “thinking about Saruman is quite draining for Frodo.  Please, that is enough for now.”

Frodo stirred and opened his eyes.  “Did you do anything, Gandalf?  I didn’t sense your presence.”

“Nor should you have,” the wizard said with a sad smile.  “Would that Saruman had shown the same concern for Merry.”

“I am sorry,” Frodo murmured, “but I’m so sleepy, I can’t…” He started to cough, and Gandalf rubbed his back gently until the spasm passed.

“No more talking,” Elrond said, taking Frodo from Gandalf’s arms and settling him back into his nest of blankets.  “I will get you something to drink that will soothe your throat, and then you need to sleep again.”  He shook his head warningly at the wizard.  “No more, Gandalf.  I trust you learned everything you needed.”

“I did,” Gandalf said, getting to his feet.  “And what I need now is Saruman’s ring.  We must destroy it.”

Elrond stood up as well, and and spoke softly to the wizard in Elvish.  “What then?  And what of your ring?” he asked.  “Will you be able to use Narya to reach Merry?”

“I believe it will indeed be needed,” Gandalf replied, looking thoughtfully from Frodo to Pippin, then back to Frodo.  “But perhaps it will not be I who wields it.”

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Agent Pip:  You’re welcome!  I’m happy to rescue hobbits anytime, anywhere.

Ainu Laire:  Whew!  Thank you for bringing in wizard-doubles for the now-mangled and deceased Saruman.  I’m sure no one will notice…

Amrunofthesummercountry:  I’m enjoying showing the “softer side” of Celeborn and Galadriel -- this story is breaking new ground for me in many ways.  Oh poor Wormtongue!  He allied himself with a Power, but it turned out to be on the losing side.  I do appreciate your reviews, long or cut off!

angelsflame265:  Yay for the rescue!

ansothehobbit:  Yes, we must get Merry healed.  *busily gets to work on that*

aprilkat:  I do love it when Gandalf gets to be “wizardly”!  I suspect that there’s a lot more to him than he lets most folks see.

Aratlithiel1:  Waving your staff at your children and declaring them mute didn’t work??  *goes back to re-think Chapter 6*  :)  Ah, TLC… the best part of any story.

Ariel3:  Oh my, I’m so happy to be serving you such a tasty meal.  What a nice compliment!

AshNight2:  You make me feel so special!  Thank you.

Baylor:  It wasn’t until I started this story that I realized how little we really know about Gandalf “the White”’s increased power and authority.  I’m so happy you feel I’m writing him appropriately.

BellaMonte:  Oh Bella, thank you!  I do tend to lean more towards comfort than hurt (and therefore couldn’t let the rescue and cuddling wait another moment), but this story idea just wouldn’t leave me alone.  I’m so relieved it seems to be working.

Bluegrass Elf:  Ah, I get it!  You love the post-cliffhangers!

Bookworm2000:  That’s the allure of writing hurt/comfort -- getting to the ‘comfort’ part!

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  You’re so kind to let me borrow your hobbits.  And thank you for the help in healing them and tucking them into bed -- they really appreciate it!

Cellibella:  Thank you for the compliment!  To be honest, though, I really couldn’t bear it that Saruman held a knife to Frodo’s throat, even though I wrote it -- I needed to make sure that it was only for a few seconds, and that Frodo didn’t even know about it.  I’m just not cut out for all this angst, Bella!

ClaudiaofBree:  I’m glad you liked the “tricky, feverish dream” -- but Frodo saw right through it.

Connie:  Saruman didn’t “take” Merry’s memories, he just “shares” them -- and he wasn’t too gentle about it, the villain.

Elenar:  Thanks, Elenar -- I’ll take good care of Merry, I promise!

Elven Kitten:  Keep cuddling the hobbits, E.V. -- they’ll know you love them!

Elwen:  Oh Elwen, your lovely words always brighten my day.  And for you to compliment my Elrond, when I adore your Elrond so… wow.

EmeraldFaith:  The whole story is working up to the time when we get Merry better… soon, very soon…

endymion2:  Sorry, but I couldn’t let the rescue/comfort wait any longer.  I’m just not an author who enjoys prolonging the angst, I’m afraid!  (Oh good, you’re blaming Saruman for the “quick rescue”.  Whew.)

Erin-21.  Thank you, Erin.  And I agree -- my beta-mom is a cherished and invaluable part of my writing.  We make a great team.

Esamen:  “Better than TV”!  Thank you!  Actually, reading and writing fanfiction has just about replaced watching TV, for me.

Firnsarnien:  I think we should just send Elrohir off to the market so you can have some quality time with Elladan…

GamgeeFest:  I hope this chapter helped to clear up the “power source” mystery!

Gayalondiel:  I’m so glad you liked the “dream” sequence!  That was the last part of the chapter I wrote, and the hardest.

GTA Otaku:  Oh, the suspense.  I’m getting everything resolved as fast as I can!

Hai Took:  I’m happy you enjoyed the rescue.

hobbitfeet13:  I was originally going to have a longer Sam-Saruman scene, with Sam resisting “the voice” for the same reason as Frodo -- that he, too, had been a Ringbearer.  When I finally sat down to write it, though, that scene came out completely different than I had planned it!

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Thank you for enjoying Sam so much -- he’s wonderful.  I really needed to end Chapter 6 with something “cute” after all that angst; I just couldn’t hold it in another moment.

hyperactive forever:  Cuddling!  I love it!  My goodness, a lot of you are fighting over the twins; I think I’ll have to let you all take turns with the elf-cuddling.

Iorhael!  Brave Frodo triumphs!  With a little help from his friends… :)

Jenni:  I love your enthusiasm!  I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story.

Lady Jaina:  I update as often as my schedule permits -- wish it could be even oftener.

Leia Wood:  Thanks, Leia.  (I wanted to respond to all of your kind reviews, but since you don’t list an e-mail, I’ll say “thank you” here!)

LilyBaggins:  Oh Lily, this made me laugh out loud.  “I don't even have to tell you what I liked best about the chapter, because I'm sure you already know.  Fever.  Sleeping in Gandalf's arms.  Worried about Sam worrying.  You know the drill.”  Since you were one of my teachers, I’m glad I learned my lesson well!

Lossenchristal:  I thought of expanding that Sam-Saruman scene to see what would happen, but it just didn’t work out.  Maybe someone else will write another encounter between them sometime, and we can see if Saruman’s “flattery” affects him.  I suspect you’re right, though -- if the Ring couldn’t do it, I doubt Saruman can.  Excellent point.

lovethosehobbits:  I just couldn’t bear all the ‘hurt’ -- I had to get to the ‘comfort’ part!

Lyta Padfoot:  Thank you so much for mentioning the end of Chapter 6 -- I thought it was time for some “adorableness” after all that angst.

MagicalRachel:  You sweetie.  Glad you’re enjoying “hero Sam”.  *hugs you back*

Naiade:  I like how you describe Frodo’s “loving strength” -- that’s certainly the way I see him.

Pearl Took:  “That wretch” really has a nerve, doesn’t he?  At least we know that Saruman comes to a tragic end (eventually).

Periantari:  Samwise the Brave!  Take that, evil villains!  And I’m glad you liked the “dream” sequence -- I like to think of new ways to begin (and end) chapters.

Pip4:  I love the “comfort stuff” the most.

Pippinfan1988:  That nasssty Saruman; but he can’t stand up against a real wizard, can he?

pipwise brandygin:  There’s just no stopping Sam when he sets his mind to something, is there?

Samwise The Strong:  Merry will need all the love you can give him.

Shire Baggins:  Frodo is incredibly strong and resilient.  Poor Saruman didn’t stand a chance with him and Sam on the scene.  :)

The Ninth Spelunker:  I honestly never know, in advance, how long my stories will be!  Thank you for wanting this one to continue for awhile.

TheOneDoghnut:  I’m updating as often as I can!  Thank you for reading.

Willow:  Sorry, but I couldn’t let the rescue/comfort wait any longer.  I’m just not an author who enjoys prolonging the angst, I’m afraid!  And I really enjoy exploring the abilities of Gandalf “the White”.  He has great power and authority that is rarely seen.

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“It is perilous to study too deeply the arts of the Enemy, for good or for ill.”  Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘The Council of Elrond’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 8 -- Choices

“Elrohir, will you accompany me?”

Elrohir, still sitting by his brother’s side, rose instantly to his feet.  Gandalf retrieved his staff, propped against a nearby table, and he and Elrohir left the tent.  As they walked to where Saruman and Wormtongue were being guarded, Gandalf gave a warning.

“Elrohir, if at any time I tell you to leave, do not hesitate, but leave at once.”

“I understand.”

The Elves guarding the entrance to the tent stepped aside as the two approached, and one spoke quietly to Gandalf.  “As you ordered, sir, we have not given them any lanterns -- lest they start a fire within, as a diversion.”

Gandalf nodded his approval, and entered the tent followed closely by Elrohir.  In the dim light, Saruman -- who had been restlessly pacing -- whirled to face them.  The remains of a meal could be seen on a table, and Wormtongue sat on a cot, eyeing the visitors with a mixture of fear and hatred.

“You may speak,” Gandalf said, motioning his staff toward Saruman and Wormtongue.

“So, you have come to gloat over my imprisonment?” Saruman asked harshly.  “Do you truly think these Elves can hold me, should I choose to leave?”

“Surely, Saruman,” Gandalf said mildly, “you must agree that your accommodations are somewhat better than those you arranged for me.”

Saruman now ignored the wizard and looked at Elrohir disdainfully.  “Always you have someone dangling at your tail, Gandalf; can you do nothing without an audience to admire your tricks?”  He softened his words abruptly.  “How fares Elladan?  It grieved me to see anyone so injured.  My strength has been drained of late, no thanks to Gandalf, or I would certainly have tried harder to free him.”

“You did nothing for him,” Elrohir spat out angrily.  “Do not speak his name again, or I will kill you.”

“You heard him, Gandalf,” Saruman said instantly.  “This one, or one of his misguided comrades, will kill us as we sleep.  I insist you let us go.”

“Peace, Elrohir,” Gandalf said firmly.  “Do not let his serpent’s tongue cause you unease.  Saruman…” he faced the ex-wizard grimly, “there is a matter to discuss.”

“He tries to trick you, master!” Wormtongue burst out suddenly.

“Tricks, Master Wormtongue?” Gandalf asked.  “I need them not.  I have come to offer your master a choice.”

Saruman eyed the wizard warily.  “Which is?”

“You will surrender your ring -- voluntarily, or it will be taken from you.”

Saruman glared at Gandalf with eyes that glittered with rage.  “Never.  It is all I have left.  You would not deprive me of one last heirloom?”

Gandalf gazed at him calmly, unmoved by his words.  “Remove it, or your finger will be removed.”

“Let me do it, Gandalf,” Elrohir stepped forward, his hand inching toward the hilt of his knife.

“Hold,” Gandalf said quietly.  “Saruman, as you now share the memories of the hobbit you used so carelessly, you recognize Elrohir as the brother of the Elf you left for dead in the cave.  I do not think he will show you any more mercy than you showed his brother, should you delay another moment.”

“The hobbit I ‘used so carelessly’?  So that is what you tell yourself, Gandalf,” Saruman said suddenly.  “Does this belief soothe your own guilt?  If anyone treated the hobbits carelessly, it was surely yourself.  You drove off four Nazgûl and rode, like a coward, to Rivendell, leaving your precious hobbits at the mercy of the five deathless ones who pursued them.  Did you turn back to help them?  I know that you can communicate with the Ringbearer regardless of distance; so at any time when he was suffering in Mordor, you could have eased his grief and torment by letting him know that you lived.  Did you do so?”  Saruman stepped forward, his eyes glittering.  “You dragged a young hobbit -- a mere child -- almost to his death in the siege and burning of Minas Tirith.  Do not speak to me of careless or unfeeling treatment.”  He smiled as a look of uncertainty crossed Elrohir’s face.

“The knowledge you have gained from Merry’s mind will not avail you now, Saruman,” Gandalf said calmly.  “I am not answerable to you for either my actions or my motivations.  What was done, was done.”  He held out his hand and stepped forward.  “Your ring.”

Saruman, breathing heavily, looked from Gandalf to Elrohir, trying and failing to calculate a means of quick escape.  There were no allies in this camp, save his servant; and they were surrounded.  A new day might bring new hope, but for now...

With a sudden, spasmodic movement, Saruman pulled the ring from his finger and threw it at Gandalf, who calmly bent to retrieve it.

“Come, Elrohir,” Gandalf motioned the Elf to precede him out of the tent.  “We must make haste.”

“What will you do?” Elrohir asked curiously as Gandalf strode quickly to the perimeter of the camp.

“The One Ring could only be destroyed in the fires that forged it,” Gandalf said grimly, “but not so this ring.  Saruman’s knowledge is formidable, but his ring can be unmade here and now.  Even so, it will take more than our camp’s small fire to undo his craft.  Shield your eyes.”  They had walked beyond the sight of anyone in camp, and Gandalf flung the ring to the ground and pointed his staff at it.  Elrohir heard the wizard speaking words of a tongue he did not recognize, and behind his closed eyelids, a brilliant light suddenly flared.  A  fearsome cry of pain -- and rage -- burst from the prisoners’ tent, then all grew silent.

“It is done.”

Elrohir heard Gandalf’s quiet words and opened his eyes.  Nothing could now be seen of the ring save a blackened, misshapen lump of metal, which lay smoking on the ground.  He had many questions, but did not ask them; the affairs of the Istari were beyond his knowledge, and he was content to leave it so.

“Has Merry been freed of Saruman’s power?” Elrohir asked anxiously.

“It will be possible now to reach him,” Gandalf said as they walked back to camp, “but it may not be a simple matter.”

“What is to be done with Saruman and his servant?”

“That remains to be seen,” Gandalf said thoughtfully.  “Perhaps he should be judged by those he has harmed.  We shall see.”  Once back at the healing tent, he immediately moved to the bed where Merry lay, with Pippin still asleep next to him.  “Elrohir,” the wizard said quietly, “it is time to move Pippin back to his own bed.”

“I will take him,” Galadriel said.  She gently picked up the sleeping tween, who murmured something only she could hear.  “You will see him soon, young one,” the Lady said softly, and carried Pippin back to his bed.  Gandalf sat next to Merry, and lay his right hand on the hobbit’s brow.  A shudder ran through Merry’s body, and he cried out as if in fear.

“As I suspected,” Gandalf sighed, instantly stopping what he was doing.  He looked around at the concerned faces surrounding the bed.  “We must talk, all of us.”  He caught the eye of Sam, who was awake and watching him from a bed that had been placed next to Frodo’s.  “Sam, this concerns Frodo.  Would you join us?”

Gandalf left the tent, followed by Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond, Sam, and Elrohir, while attendants stayed with the other hobbits and Elladan.  He led the group to a grassy area, out of earshot of the camp.

“Elrohir,” Gandalf spoke quietly, “you know, do you not, that your father bears Vilya?”

“I do,” Elrohir replied.  “He told me, as well as Elladan and Arwen, many years ago; we greatly honor him for it.”

“What you may not know is that Galadriel bears Nenya, and I…” Gandalf held up his right hand, and both Sam and Elrohir noticed, for the first time, a ring upon the wizard’s finger.  “I am the guardian of Narya.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Elrohir bowed deeply before the bearers of the Three.  Sam just stared, awestruck.

“Sam, do you remember Frodo’s reaction, in the cave, when I first approached him?” Gandalf asked the hobbit.

“He thought you were Saruman,” Sam replied.

“That is correct,” Gandalf said wearily, “and so does Merry.  Saruman’s grip on his mind has been broken, but in his confusion, Merry does not recognize me and will not hear my voice.  The image of Saruman still in his mind is so strong and fearsome, that it remains -- even now that the source of Saruman’s power is gone.”

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“Someone else must contact Merry and bring him back to us, Sam,” Gandalf explained.  “Someone he trusts, and loves.”  He sighed.  “Only Frodo can do it.”

“Gandalf,” Celeborn interjected, “what of Pippin?  His love for Merry is equally great, and certainly Merry would come if he called.  He, too, is weakened by injury, but is certainly stronger at this time than Frodo.”

“I have thought long on this,” Gandalf explained, “and it is possible that we will ask Pippin to do this if Frodo is not strong enough.”

“How can either of them contact Merry’s mind?” Elrohir asked.

Gandalf turned to him.  “When Pippin and Merry were in the hands of the Orcs, Pippin “saw” Aragorn pursuing them -- he knew it without a doubt.”  He looked thoughtful.  “Within this youngster are abilities greater than he knows.”

“Then why not ask him?” Sam asked.  “Gandalf, Mr. Frodo might not want to wear another ring, ever again.  Not even yours.”

“I know,” Gandalf agreed, “and if he will not, then we will ask Pippin.  But Frodo is the best choice, Sam, and Narya’s energies have faded sufficiently for him not to be overpowered by them.  This ring, of which I have long been guardian, can be used to bring new strength and purpose to another.  Merry will respond to it, and Frodo can help him to wake.  Wearing Narya, Frodo’s own mental abilities -- much strengthened of late -- will be more than enough to bring Merry back to us.”

“Gandalf,” Elrond spoke for the first time.  “Your reasoning is sound, but there is a danger for Frodo.  Perhaps the Three must work together in this.  Vilya and Nenya together can calm and steady him.”

“You don’t mean to have him wear all three?” Sam gasped.

“No, Sam,” Galadriel smiled.  “He will need to wear only one.  But Gandalf,” she said, troubled, “the strength Elrond and I channel into Frodo will be temporary.  When withdrawn, it may be that his efforts to guide Merry back to us will cause him to be even weaker than he is now.”

“That is the risk,” Gandalf agreed.

“And still he must agree,” Elrohir added.

“He will,” Sam sighed.  “Mr. Frodo would walk clear back to Mordor if it meant helping Mr. Merry.”

“We have no time to lose,” Gandalf said.

They re-entered the tent, which the attendants had now lit with softly-glowing lanterns against the deepening twilight.  Gandalf, Elrond, and Sam went to Frodo’s bed, while Elrohir moved to check on Elladan.  Galadriel drew Celeborn over to Pippin’s bed, where she motioned to the young hobbit and spoke quietly to her husband.

“Frodo’s fever is at least no higher,” Elrond said, laying a gentle hand on Frodo’s flushed face.  Frodo was no longer shivering, and had fallen into a deep sleep.

“The same cannot be said for Pippin,” Galadriel said, joining them.  “Celeborn will give him a mild sleep draught, then open and drain a small area of infection that has developed in his arm.  By morning, he should be much improved.”

“We then no longer have a choice,” Gandalf said firmly.  Once more he sat on Frodo’s bed and gathered the sick hobbit close against him.  Sam stood by, looking unhappy.

“G.. Gandalf?” Frodo said sleepily, opening his eyes.  “What time is it?”

“It is evening,” the wizard said gently.  He took the cup that Elrond handed him and gave Frodo more of the restorative tonic with which Elrond had been dosing him at intervals.

Frodo drank thirstily.  He tried to sit up and look around, but fell back limply against Gandalf.  “I feel so weak…”

“Contesting the will of Saruman is no small feat,” Elrond said, taking back the empty cup.  “Once your fever breaks, you should quickly recover.  The tonic has eased your cough, and your strength will soon return.”  If allowed proper rest, he thought.  Gandalf, catching his thought, looked up and met the Elf Lord’s gaze.

“How is everyone?” Frodo asked.

“Pippin is sleeping,” Gandalf told him.  “His arm was injured in the cave, and Celeborn has been tending to him.  You can see him in the morning.  Elladan is…”

“Elladan is much better, Frodo,” Elrohir said, coming to join them.  “Several ribs are broken, but Elves heal very quickly.  He is awake, and already impatient with being bedridden for just these few hours.  My brother is distressed that he could not come to your aid when Saruman captured you and Merry.”

“How could he possibly have done so?” Frodo asked wonderingly.  “He is lucky to be alive at all.”

“I agree,” Elrohir smiled.  “Perhaps you will be kind enough to reassure him of that tomorrow.”  He bent to kiss Frodo’s forehead, then moved away.

“Sam,” Frodo said worriedly, “you look so tired…”

“Don’t you be worrying about me, sir,” Sam declared.  “I can rest anytime I like.”

“But you haven’t, have you?” Frodo then twisted around so he could see Merry, lying nearby.  “Gandalf, what about Merry?”

“It is Merry we must discuss,” Gandalf said.  He proceeded to explain to Frodo that Saruman’s ring had been destroyed, and Merry might now be reached, and awakened.

“He will not hear me, Frodo, for he believes me to be Saruman -- as you did at first,” Gandalf continued.  “I believe he will only return if he is guided back by one whom he loves and trusts.”

He removed a ring from his finger and held it up before Frodo’s eyes.  The deep red gem glittered in the light from the lamps, and Frodo caught his breath.

“Have you been wearing that all this time, Gandalf?” Frodo asked.  “How did you conceal it?”

Gandalf smiled.  “The Three conceal themselves, Frodo, in response to the mind and will of those who wear them.”

Frodo looked up at him.  “You want me to call Merry back, don’t you?  Using that.”

Gandalf shook his head in admiration.  “You see very clearly, my dear hobbit.  I suspect you could awaken some quite remarkable abilities, given time.  We could teach you many things.”

“Perhaps we will someday have that time,” Frodo whispered.

“Perhaps we will,” murmured the wizard.  “But for now…”  Frodo reached out for the ring, but Gandalf withheld it.  “Frodo, listen to me.  Although I fear to delay any longer, this act is not without danger for you.  Elrond and Galadriel will give you what strength you can bear, but---”

“Yes,” said Frodo firmly.  He reached for the ring again, and Gandalf slid it onto the middle finger of his left hand.

“It doesn’t shrink,” Frodo said, curling his fingers into a fist so the ring wouldn’t slide off.

“In time it would adjust to you,” Gandalf smiled.  “The One Ring alone adapted itself instantly to its bearer.”

“What does it feel like, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked curiously.

“It doesn’t…” Frodo shook his head.  “I don’t feel anything.”

“Narya awaits your will, Frodo,” Gandalf explained.  “It will shine brightly before Merry, reminding him of who he is, and how to return to us.  But you must first reach out to him, and assure him that it is safe.”

Frodo nodded.  He had never felt so weak, and the fever was making him dizzy and almost unbearably drowsy.  He longed to sleep… but Merry needed him.

Gandalf lifted Frodo and carried him to Merry’s bed, laying him down on his cousin’s right.  Galadriel and Elrond stood ready.

“What do I---”

Gandalf smiled and took Frodo’s left hand, laying it -- and the ring -- across Merry’s forehead.

“Just call to him, Frodo,” Gandalf explained.  “Picture his face in your mind, and let him know that you are with him.  Let him know that it is safe to return.”

Frodo nodded and closed his eyes.  Elrond lay a hand upon Frodo’s brow, and Galadriel took the hobbit’s right hand in hers.  He immediately felt himself awash in light -- blue, gold, and white.  He felt light, buoyant, held securely and strengthened.

“Merry,” he whispered inwardly.  Merry…

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Agent Pip:  Thank you so much!

Ailsa Joy:  “Carrying your characters on stretchers of words” -- Ailsa, what a lovely thing to say!  And oh yes, sleepy Frodo... I loves him too.

Ainu Laire:  I’m getting confused with all the real and substitute wizards running about!

Anso the Hobbit:  I’m barely scratching the surface, in this story, about Gandalf’s powers; hopefully, other authors will go into more detail than I have.

aprilkat:  Oh my, I doubt I’d be even a fraction as good a healer in RL as I am in the virtual world!

Aratlithiel1:  Oh, thank you for knowing that I’ll take good care of all our sweet hobbits.  I try!

Arwen Baggins:  Yes, Saruman’s ring is canon.  In FOTR, at the Council of Elrond, Gandalf says, “But I rode to the foot of Orthanc, and came to the stair of Saruman; and there he met me and led me up to his high chamber.  He wore a ring on his finger.”  Later, Saruman tells Gandalf, “For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours!”

Auntiemeesh:  Thank you for highlighting Frodo’s Gandalf/Saruman confusion in Chapter 6; as you can see, that’s a major source of worry for Gandalf in this chapter, regarding Merry.

bandosax15:  Frodo die?  Not in one of my stories!  Just relax… relax… that’s it…

Baylor:  Thanks to you, to many of us, Pippin will now always be our “brave falcon”.  And this story may be darker than my other ones, and the cliffhangers more numerous, but I can’t hold a candle to Budgie’s gift for ending a chapter in evil ways.  She is truly a master.

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  I’m giving a lot of thought to the Elrohir-Elladan relationship; I’m so glad it’s coming across well.

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  I’m glad Chapter 6 felt “sweet and adorable” after all that angst!

CelliBella:  Thank you; I may do angst well, but I’m sure relieved when the ‘comfort’ part of a story begins.

Connie:  Go ahead and hug the hobbits, Connie!  We won’t get in your way.  (We might stand in line behind you, but we won’t get in your way.)  And you can see that you anticipated my idea about Pippin -- and I still think you (or someone) should write about it!

cpsings4him:  It was definitely time for the comfort part to begin!

Elenar:  Thank you for liking that line about the “short rations” -- I wrote it almost at the last minute, and it made me smile.

Elven Kitten:  Cuddles cuddles cuddles!

Elwen:  I’m so glad that the peaceful feeling I wanted to bring into Chapter 6 really worked.  I thought we all deserved it!

EmeraldFaith:  Merry’s had such a smile on his face all this time -- I suspect he knew you were hugging and comforting him.

endymion2:  TLC lovers are never satisfied!  And I hope you like the resolution of “who gets to wear Gandalf’s ring” -- I tried to make it logical.

Esamen/Karen:  Wow, thank you so much!  I’ve never written such a “dark” tale, or one with so many things going on in so many places amongst so many people!  It’s definitely stretching me as a writer -- how kind of you to mention it.  And I’m so relieved that you can visualize a scene described mostly through dialogue -- I don’t consider “description” to be my best thing, so I have to rely on dialogue to tell the story, for the most part.

fadagaski:  I’m so pleased to know that my updates cheer you up!  What a nice thing to know.

Gayalondiel:  I’m happy to open fic-doors for folks -- step right on in and enjoy yourself.  And I’m still amazed that people are complimenting how I write Elves.  Just amazed!

Gentle Hobbit:  Oh yes, Frodo has a quick mind and great perceptions, fever or no fever.

Giu:  Thanks, Giu!  I’m glad you’re still enjoying the story.

gershwhen:  I try always to keep Frodo strong, no matter what else I may do to him.  He’s one of a kind, that Baggins.

Hai Took:  I like Elves taking care of the hobbits, too; as a switch, maybe someday I’ll write a story where hobbits are taking care of the Elves!

hobbitfeet13:  Believe me, there’s no need for me to have anyone kill Saruman in this story -- so many of you are already lined up to do it for me!

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Thank you, Lily.  I did indeed want to infuse Chapter 6 with “concern and love”.

hyperactive forever:  I get the point!  Yes!  The twins are yours, always have been and always will be!  And I’m so glad you’re happy with all the Elladan-comfort.

illyria-pffyffin:  I am sorry that the Merry-mystery has been drawn out for so long, but we’re definitely getting close to the resolution.

Iorhael:  Ah, but Saruman’s had it on his finger the whole time; Gandalf just didn’t connect Saruman’s ring with his power.

Jenni:  Thank you so much.  I don’t know if my characters are ‘canon’ or ‘real’, but they’re the characters that live in my imagination, and I’m so happy to be giving them life.

Lady Jaina:  Thank you!  I was so relieved to finally get to the “comfort” part of the story.

Leah Beth:  I agree with what you say about Sam -- such a steadfast, loyal, nurturing, courageous, and practical hobbit; Rosie was very lucky!  And believe me, there is nothing more meaningful that anyone has to say other than, “I’m enjoying your story and look forward to more.”  Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me.

Leia Wood:  I adore hobbit comfort and tending, as well.  So very much!

LilyBaggins:  My biggest fear with this story (well, one of them, anyway) was that the whole plot would seem implausible.  I really appreciate everything you said, Lily.  And, well, if we can’t have Aragorn in this story, treating Frodo with gentle respect and care, Gandalf makes a good substitute.  Almost.  :)

Lindelea:  I wish there was more opportunity in this story for humor, but whenever there’s an opening -- I take it!

Lossenchristal:  The idea that someone else might wield Narya didn’t occur to me until I was well into writing Chapter 5.  I’m learning to welcome these unexpected ideas!

lovethosehobbits:  I swear I don’t know how all these cliffhangers sneak into my stories.  *swats at cliffhangers ineffectively*

Marigold:  Thank you so much.  I know you wanted Gandalf to pick someone else to bear Narya, but I hope you feel that his choice was logically made.

Mariole:  I suppose Chapter 6 did end in a ‘hook’, didn’t it?  How about that… :)

melilot hill:  Yes, it’s certainly time we “rescued” Merry -- hang in there for one more chapter, Mel!

Melylott S. Banks:  I wonder why we love the TLC and sweetness so much? (Probably because the characters go through so much -- no thanks to the fic authors -- and they really deserve the comfort-part of a story!)

Pearl Took:  Your review for Chapter 6 gave me an idea for this chapter, Pearl.  Many thanks!

Pippinfan1988:  And I’m enjoying how much you’re enjoying the story!  What a pleasure to have folks to share it with.

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

As they walked they compared notes, talking lightly in hobbit-fashion of the things that had happened … No listener would have guessed from their words that they had suffered cruelly, and been in dire peril.  The Two Towers, ‘The Uruk-Hai’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 9 -- Knowledge of the Heart

It was no use.  Merry sank to the ground and sat dejectedly, shaking his head in utter frustration.  He didn’t know where he was, how long he had been here, or how to escape.  Nothing made sense.  The images around him were fractured like the facets of a gem.  It was as if he was inside a gem.  Had Saruman done this to him when he touched him with that ring?  Was he inside Saruman’s ring?  The thought nearly froze his heart with fear.  Had the wizard somehow propelled him into one of the glittering jewels set in the band… trapping him for all eternity?

All around him were paths leading in every direction, and he had tried them all -- but each one led back to the beginning, to this cold, unfamiliar, lonely place.  Maybe it was all a nightmare.  Maybe…

All at once, Merry realized that the air around him was growing warm.  A gentle peace blossomed in his heart, and he felt safe and comforted -- as if he was a child again, back in his mother’s arms being fed toast and cocoa and told a story.

“Merry.”  Someone called his name, and a path Merry hadn’t noticed before appeared before him, bathed in a soft, reddish glow.

“Merry!  There you are!”

“Frodo?” Merry could barely recognize the figure who strode confidently towards him, so brightly did he shine.  Merry gazed in wonder at his cousin (was it truly?), who seemed as dazzling as Gandalf’s fireworks.  “Frodo!” Merry gasped as Frodo knelt and took him into his arms.  “Oh Frodo, you shouldn’t be here.  It isn’t safe.”

“It is you who shouldn’t be here, Merry dear,” Frodo murmured softly.  “It is time to leave this place and come back to us.”

“I’ve tried,” Merry said miserably.  “I can’t find the way back.”

“Can you see that?” Frodo asked, pointing to the glowing path.

“That wasn’t there before,” Merry said, looking at Frodo suspiciously.  “Someone else came and tried to trick me, but I wouldn’t listen.”

“I know this is confusing for you,” Frodo said.  “Saruman trapped you here, but I’ve come to bring you home.”

Merry sighed and slumped against Frodo’s chest.  “I’m so tired,” he murmured.  “How do I know this isn’t another trick?”

Frodo smiled and held Merry close, rocking him gently.  “Do you remember, when you were seven, and you thought a snake would make a great pet, then Slitherdoc got loose and the entire Hall was in an uproar?”

“Yes.”  Merry smiled, remembering.  “You never told anyone that Slitherdoc was mine, did you?”

“No.”  Frodo could feel Merry start to relax.  “And do you remember the day Pip was born, and you thought we should all get presents because it was his birthday?”

“You gave me one,” Merry said softly.  “You said Pip had sent it to me because I was his specialest cousin.”

“You are,” Frodo said.

“Frodo,” Merry said suddenly, “I don’t understand what’s happening.  I need to be sure it’s really you.  Saruman saw… he saw everything, Frodo, every memory.  He would know all those things, too, about Pip and---”

“You must believe me,” Frodo pleaded.  “Please, Merry, you know it’s me.  Can’t you feel it?”  He grasped Merry’s hands in his own, and Merry felt so much love coursing through him that he nearly wept.  Now he recognized that what he had felt when Frodo came to him was… family.

“I know it’s you,” Merry whispered.  “I know it.”

Frodo pressed his left hand to Merry’s chest, and a ring on Frodo’s finger began to glow -- the same reddish, gentle glow as the path.  Merry felt a calm strength enter his heart, and he smiled with joy.  Everything was going to be all right.

“What must I do?” Merry asked calmly.

“Stand up,” Frodo said gently, drawing Merry to his feet.  He pointed to the path.  “Just start walking, Merry, and fill your mind with where you want to be.  You’re already back in camp, Merry, you just have to see it, and believe it.  Picture our camp.  Picture Gandalf’s face.  You’re lying in a tent, on a soft bed.  It is evening, but the tent is lit with the gentle light of Elvish lanterns.  You’ll open your eyes and see Gandalf smiling down at you…”

Merry frowned.  “Aren’t you coming, too?”

“I’m already there,” Frodo said with a smile.  “Start walking, now.  That’s it.  Picture Gandalf’s face, Merry.  Our camp… a gentle evening… Gandalf…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well done, Frodo… It’s all right, I’ve got you.”

Frodo couldn’t open his eyes… he couldn’t move.  Strong arms gathered him up, and he was lifted and cradled gently.  The weakness and fever he had nearly forgotten about closed in on him once more.  So hot and dizzy… voices…

“His fever has risen still higher.  As I feared, he’s very weak, Gandalf, and will need several days of complete rest once we get the fever to break.  Sam, is the bath prepared?  Pour in the rest of that and you can help with…”

Frodo felt his nightshirt being drawn over his head, and then he was lowered gently into cool water that smelled of athelas.  He sighed, relaxing into the arms that still supported him.  It was still too much of an effort to open his eyes, and he felt frighteningly weak.  So tired…

“It is all right,” Elrond’s voice murmured in his ear.  “We’ve got you, little one.  You did very well.  Let sleep take you now.  Shhhh…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Merry felt a cool breeze on his face… from somewhere came the fragrance of athelas, and he breathed deeply of the fresh, living scent.  Someone was holding his hand.  Slowly, he began to catch snatches of conversation. 

“…very weak, Gandalf… will need several days of… Sam… you can help with…” And then another familiar voice, closer to him… “Ah, I believe Merry is waking… Merry?  That’s it, deep breaths.  Good.  Merry, open your eyes…”

Gandalf, seated on Merry’s bed, smiled in relief as Merry’s eyes opened and focused on him.

“Do you know me, Merry?” the wizard asked quietly.  “Do you know where you are?”

“I…” Merry looked around.  “This isn’t our tent.  How did I get here?”

“That is quite a long story,” Gandalf replied.  “What is the last thing you remember?”

“We were in bed, and Pip was teasing about winning the whole war by himself.”

“That was last night, Gandalf,” Sam piped up.  “Mr. Merry, don’t you remember anything about today at all?”

Merry sat up, and looked around in amazement.  Elrond and Sam were bathing Frodo, who appeared to be either asleep or unconscious.  Elrohir sat nearby, speaking softly with Elladan, who also lay abed, and lastly, he saw Pippin -- also asleep, with his arm bandaged.  Swiveling back to face Gandalf, Merry looked at the wizard for an explanation.

“You, Pippin, and Elladan left early this morning to search for caves, do you remember, Merry?” Gandalf reminded him.  “It was raining, and---”

Merry suddenly gasped, his eyes growing wide.  “The cave!  Saruman found us, and…” He suddenly clutched the wizard’s robe, his breathing growing fast and shallow.  “He… he did something… I couldn’t…”

“I know.  He will not harm you again, Merry.  He and his servant are being well guarded.”

“I’m so sorry, Gandalf,” Merry said in anguish.  “I told him about Frodo.  I didn’t mean to, I swear it.”

“Merry,” Gandalf said gently, “Against a wizard, even one whose power had been diminished, such as Saruman, few can endure for long.”

“Frodo did,” Merry argued, his eyes on his cousin.  “You should have seen it, Gandalf.”

“I did,” Gandalf said with a smile.  “Frodo shared that memory with me.”

“Is he…”  Merry looked around the tent.  “Is everyone all right?”

“They will be,” Gandalf reassured him.  “Pippin’s arm was injured, and he has a bit of fever -- but you know that your young cousin will nonetheless wake in time for breakfast.”  Merry grinned at him.  “Elladan survived being trapped beneath a heavy beam,” Gandalf continued.  He decided not to tell Merry that Saruman had enspelled Elladan nearly to his death; the sooner Merry could move past what had happened to him -- to all of them -- the better.  “And Frodo,” Gandalf continued, “suffers from the fever of which you were aware in the cave. 

“He was so strong, Gandalf.”  Merry’s eyes filled with tears.  “I should have been able to---”

“Merry,” Gandalf said firmly, “Frodo was able to resist Saruman because he had learned to resist the Ring in the same manner.  You could not have done the same, and you should not believe that you could have known how to recognize and fight the spell of one such as Saruman.”

“All right,” Merry sighed.  “But I remember…” He closed his eyes for a moment.  “I couldn’t find my way back.  Frodo… did I just imagine things, or did he really come after me?”

“He really did,” the wizard replied simply.

“How?”

“That, my friend, is a tale for the morning.  Do not be alarmed if your memories from today are not perfectly clear.  You are back with us, safe and sound.”  Gandalf rose to his feet.  “I will see what food is available for a hungry hobbit.”

Merry nodded, still a bit confused.  He suddenly looked down at himself, realizing that he was wearing different clothes than he remembered donning that morning.  He started to ask, then thought better of it.  Perhaps some things were best left unremembered.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Celeborn straightened up from where he had been making a final check on Pippin.  He lay a light blanket over his charge -- and over Merry.  Like Sam, Merry had refused to return to the hobbits’ tent, insisting instead on curling up next to his young cousin and “watching over him”.

“Sam is finally asleep,” Gandalf said with a smile, motioning to one of the beds.

“As is Merry,” Celeborn replied, “finally.  I wondered if he would be able to sleep at all.  There are still some things he does not remember, and perhaps never will.”  He sighed.  “Perhaps it is just as well.”

“Perhaps.  It has been quite a day, my old friend.”

“Indeed it has,” Celeborn agreed.  “And tomorrow?  Will you permit Saruman to go on his way?”

“I have not yet decided,” Gandalf replied.  They both joined Elrond at Frodo’s bedside.  “How is Frodo?” he asked, speaking quietly.

“The crisis has passed,” Elrond replied.  “Now that his fever has finally broken, all I can prescribe is nourishment and rest.  Or at least,” he sighed, “as much rest as a stubborn hobbit can be persuaded to endure.  They can be most difficult patients.”

“Let us not forget the stubbornness of Elves,” Gandalf said with a smile.  “Elladan is already most impatient to be up and about.”

“Speaking of stubborn patients,” Celeborn added, “I am reminded of a certain wizard whom the Lord of Eagles brought to us for healing.”  He chuckled.  “I would prefer a score of hobbit patients rather than another obstinate, willful, difficult---”

“Your memory is somewhat unreliable,” Gandalf said absently.  His smile faded slowly as he gazed down at Frodo’s sleeping form.  Elrond and Sam had given the weakened hobbit a second, cooling bath, into which the remaining athelas water had been mixed, then redressed him in a soft nightshirt before putting him back to bed, wrapped warmly in blankets.

“He will not wake again tonight,” Elrond said quietly.  “The fever is diminishing, but he suffers still from great weakness, and perhaps even residual effects from being struck on the head in the cave.”  He saw Gandalf frown.  “He will recover, Gandalf; they all will.  You of all people know how resilient the hobbits have shown themselves to be.  They have weathered more dire circumstances than these.”

“Perhaps Saruman was correct,” Gandalf said suddenly.  He sat carefully upon the bed, taking one of Frodo’s small hands in his own.  “He accused me of using the hobbits carelessly, and giving little thought to their welfare in my urgency to see a larger goal accomplished.”

“Even if that were true,” Elrond said, “did not each of them also have freedom of choice?  Say, rather, that you saw within the hobbits untapped potential, and qualities unique among the Free Peoples.  Their achievements were, and are, truly remarkable.”

“Be at peace, my friend,” Celeborn said, laying a hand on Gandalf’s shoulder.  “Even you could not see all ends, save that the Secondborn were destined in this War to come into their own -- or else sink utterly into darkness.  The hobbits needed to play their part, to defend the lands they love.”  He smiled as Frodo stirred in his sleep, his fingers curling unconsciously around Gandalf’s. 

Elrond nodded.  “We will never know, Gandalf, if even such a one as Aragorn could have parted with the One Ring at the end, should he have undertaken the Quest himself and brought it to Orodruin.  And you know, better than anyone, the unexpected strengths and hidden abilities of the Shirefolk.  My friend,” he continued, “do not let the serpent’s words cause you to doubt yourself.  Perhaps you, too, are not as immune to his voice as you believe.  Saruman the White was a being of great power; who is to say of what he is still capable?”

“Less now than before,” Gandalf said quietly.  He gently slid his hand away from Frodo’s, tucked the blankets back around the sleeping hobbit, and rose to his feet.  “Saruman is capable still of small mischiefs, perhaps, but his path, and its end, are not clear to me.”  He smiled.  “What I do know is that I no longer fear for the hobbits; they have grown up, and will see to their own affairs with great wisdom and skill.”  He turned suddenly to Celeborn.  “And I was not a difficult patient.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Pippin woke briefly, hours later, when the tent was dark and quiet.  He knew, even before he opened his eyes, that Merry was all right, and was unsurprised when he turned his head and discovered his cousin next to him.  He smiled as Merry’s eyes opened and met his.

“Pip?”

“H’lo,” Pippin whispered sleepily.  “Did you get any dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Is Frodo all right?”

“I think so,” Merry said, not really sure about that.  “He… he came and got me, Pip.  I was lost…”

“I know.”  Pippin looked around a little.  “How’s Elladan?”

“Hmmph.  Don’t you want to ask me how I am?”

“I don’t have to,” Pippin said simply.  “I can always tell.”

“Oh.”

“The Lady washed your cloak,” Pippin said, yawning.  “It’s good as new.”

“The Lady did what?” Merry asked, aghast.  He felt Pippin’s cheek, still warm with fever.  “Are you sure you didn’t dream that?”

“And they brought back your sword,” Pippin continued, “and Frodo’s star-glass, and…” He filled Merry in on what had been happening in camp that day (as far as he remembered it).  “I wish I hadn’t slept through all the exciting parts,” Pippin said mournfully.  He turned onto his left side to face his cousin, then winced as his injured arm started to throb.

“I hear you were very brave,” Merry said, gently sliding his own pillow beneath Pippin’s arm.

“Mm hm,” Pippin murmured, pressing closer to Merry.  “I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

“I’ll bet you will,” Merry chuckled.  “And just so you’re not getting any ideas, you didn’t win this war all by yourself either, you silly hobbit.”

“I know,” Pippin nodded.  “This time, I had a little help.”

“You crazy Took,” Merry said fondly.

“Merry,” Pippin whispered suddenly, “if I’d been there, I would never have let Saruman hurt you or Frodo.”

“I know,” Merry whispered back.

Pippin smiled and closed his eyes, then slowly relaxed as he slid into a peaceful sleep.

Merry pulled up the rumpled blankets, making sure Pippin was well covered.  Celeborn approached the bed with another pillow, and handed it to Merry.

“Thank you.”  Merry looked up at the Elf Lord.  “Is Pip going to be all right?  Truly?  He’s still too warm.”

“He will be fine,” Celeborn assured him, laying a gentle hand on Pippin’s forehead.  “The fever is greatly reduced.”

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Merry said gratefully.  “Pippin told me that you’ve been taking care of him all day.”

“It has been my pleasure,” Celeborn smiled.  “We have had some very interesting conversations.”

“I know.  Pip said he was sorry not to have heard the end of your story -- about Lord Elrond courting your daughter.”  Merry grinned.  “Will you tell it to me?”

“Are you keeping Merry awake?” Elrond suddenly appeared at Celeborn’s side and led his father-in-law away.  “How very inconsiderate of you.”

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Agent Pip:  Don’t worry, I usually make everything/everyone all better by the end!

Ailsa Joy:  I loved writing Saruman at Gandalf’s mercy.  Such an arrogant, self-centered… grrrr…  And look!  No cliffhanger this time!  *Ailsa faints*

Ainu Laire:  You’re so brave to pick up that charred ring!  (And don’t let me see you selling that on Ebay.)

Ami:  As you can see, Gandalf wasn’t completely immune to that serpent’s tongue,  And oh, thank you so much for the hugs.  *hugs you back*

Anso the Hobbit:  I’m so happy to hear, this far into the story, that you felt that it was getting “more” exciting!

aprilkat:  Thank you so much.  I’m so relieved when someone says that ‘my’ characters seem believably written.

Ariel3:  Celery sticks!  Is that what I’ve driven you to?  Ah well, I’d hate to be responsible for any fanfic-driven poundage.

AshNight2:  Now, now -- you knew Merry would be all right!

bandosax15:  Saruman’s power isn’t totally destroyed.  In the chapter of ROTK ‘The Scouring of the Shire’, Frodo tells the hobbits at Bag End that Saruman “has lost all power, save his voice.”  And you want me to write more about Frodo?  How about that -- it’s one of my favorite things to do!

Birch tree:  Thank you!  And as you can see, Gandalf wasn’t totally immune to Saruman’s words about his treatment of the hobbits.

Bookworm2000:  Thank you for trying so hard to review Chapter 8 -- ff.net does have its quirks, doesn’t it?

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  Look, Camellia!  No cliffhanger (this time)!

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  You’re the first reader who volunteered to be the one to call Merry back.  Gosh, I could have just let Frodo sleep!

ClaudiaofBree:  Don’t think I haven’t wondered myself how I can get “into” the mind of nasty Saruman.  Maybe we’ve just all known our share of arrogant, self-centered people who have no regard or respect for others.  Oooh, don’t get me started.

Connie:  Yay Pippin, indeed!  I hope you enjoy his recovery.

cpsings4him:  You wanna know a secret?  (whispers)  I love Frodo, too!

Elenar:  Gandalf really has such fondness and respect for Pippin -- it was nice to see that aspect brought out in the third movie, wasn’t it?

elentari*angel:  I feel thoroughly hugged, and so does Frodo.  *hugs you back*

Elven Kitten:  There can never be too many cuddles -- in fiction, or in real life.

Elwen:  Such a compliment from one of my favorite authors just takes my breath away.  And… so sorry about all the cliffhangers!  Lookee here -- a whole entire chapter without one.

EmeraldFaith:  The reason Pip couldn’t help Merry came down to the fact that Celeborn needed to put him to sleep so he could reopen the infected wound and do some more medical stuff.  So… Pip just wasn’t available.  And Merry loves all your hugs!

endymion2:  Sorry that Saruman’s ring was destroyed so easily, but it had to go so I could tell the rest of the story.

esamen:  Angst and comfort?  Me?  My gosh, what strange ideas you people have.  And thank you ever so much for complimenting the “Aragorn calling back Frodo from the depths” scene -- I worked very hard on that and tried to make it “just right”.

Firnsarnien:  I don’t trust Saruman, either!  Such an arrogant, self-centered… grrrr…

Frodolover:  I appreciate your comments!  I didn’t mean to imply that only Frodo or Pippin could use Gandalf’s ring, but that they would be the best two choices to contact Merry --  because Merry trusted and loved them, and also because they had each exhibited heightened mental abilities.  Gandalf’s reasoning was that Pippin had already shown a “psychic” sense in TTT, and that he could be guided to use it to reach Merry.

GamgeeFest:  I love how you see the bright side -- yes, Frodo is getting a lot of sleep!

Gayalondiel:  Oh, I’m so glad my chapters are giving you so many plot bunnies.  I look forward to seeing them hop freely.

Gentle Hobbit:  The possibilities with this whole scenario were endless, but I couldn’t write more than one of them.  Maybe someone else will explore these themes further, or take them in completely different directions.

girlofring:  You want more comfort for Frodo?  Well golly… guess I can manage that!

Hai Took:  Oh yes, if there’s one thing Saruman still has, it’s pride and arrogance.

hobbitfeet13:  I’m amazed to be doing a “splendid job” writing Saruman -- he’s so truly twisted!  Yes, his sly accusations about Gandalf’s “careless treatment” of the hobbits rang true with our good wizard -- as you can see in this chapter.

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Omigosh, Lily, this chapter didn’t end in an evil cliffhanger!  How odd…

hyperactive forever:  I didn’t want to say anything, but Elladan really is recovering very fast.  Just how many hugs are you giving him?

illyria-pffyffin:  I’m so happy you’re finding the story “gripping” -- what a compliment.

Iorhael:  You got it!  The title of this story, “Mind to Mind”, covers a lot of scenarios -- the bearers of the Three contacting each other, Frodo sensing them, Gandalf contacting Frodo, Elrohir sensing Elladan, Saruman contacting Merry, Frodo contacting Merry, etc.  A veritable wealth of folks communicating “mind to mind”!

Jay of Lasgalen:  I’m honored that you think I’m writing the twins well -- I’m still learning how to write Elves in a satisfactory way.

Jenni:  My gosh, of course you may save (or print out) this story -- or anything else I’ve written.  That’s a lovely compliment.

Lady Jaina:  Oh no, don’t bite your nails completely off, Jaina -- there are so many more stories yet to come, and you may need them!

Laughing Half Elf:  I do consider the comfort part of a story to be ‘the good part’!

Leah Beth:  I’m so glad you thought Frodo was the best choice to call Merry back -- I tried hard to write it logically.  I actually do know several sets of twins; they almost speak their own language with each other, and seem very intuitive where their “other half” is concerned.

Leia Wood:  Hee hee.  That’s how we all feel, I think -- we want to spare Frodo any more angst… or do we?  (And I’m so pleased you enjoyed “Reflections of the Past”!)

LilyBaggins:  Gosh, I just know how much you hate to see Frodo “overtax himself”!  And I do apologize that the bathing is mostly implied, but I’m sure your imagination can fill in any necessary details.

Lindelea:  Do you suppose Elladan has Took blood in him from… somewhere?  He does seem rather impatient and “hasty” for an Elf!

Lossenchristal:  I “sort of knew” Frodo would use Narya, too!  I just had to make him the logical choice.

lovethosehobbits:  Breathe, tree!  Breathe!  I hope this chapter came before you collapsed.

Mariole:  I did get a thrill when I remembered Pippin’s “ability” from TTT; and I’ll have something to say about Merry’s “hidden ability” as well -- probably in Chapter 10.  Those hobbits are infinitely interesting.

Meethrill:  I love how you call Saruman an “old coot”.  And wow, Chapter 8 made the sun come out (literally)?  I hope Chapter 9 does the same!

melilot hill:  You know, this story really does have more than its share of cliffhangers.  I just can’t figure out who’s responsible for that…

Melylott S. Banks:  Oooh, “sleepy, feverish, yet still so brave” Frodo.  One of my favorite things, Mely.

Periantari:  Are you kidding?  I love long reviews!  I hope I didn’t leave you on the edge of your seat for too long, and that this chapter begins all the lovely “comfort” you were looking forward to.

Pippinfan1988:  I know your beloved Pip didn’t have much to do in Chapter 8 (being asleep and all), but he’s baaack for a little scene in this chapter.  What a sweetie.

pipwise brandygin:  Thank you for seeing all the sweetness and selflessness in this story.  And… do you know that I just figured out your username?  All those hobbits right in front of me, and I never realized it!  (hangs head in shame)

Roger Gamgee:  Thanks, Roger!  You have to admit that Pippin’s ‘logic’ about his important part in the War is rather convincing (at least, to him), but in a playful, lighthearted way -- I just had to revisit it in this chapter.  I’m honored to be put on “author alert” -- that’s quite a compliment.

Samwise the Strong:  Nope, Chapter 9 isn’t “The End”!  Still more to go…

Tialys:  There were three rings and three hobbits, but I always was steering the story to this exact scenario: that Nenya would be needed to help Elladan and Vilya for Frodo (while they were still in the cave), and Narya would be used for Merry (back at camp).  At this point in the story, Pippin was asleep (having been given a sleep potion), so he isn’t available to help.  The Elves didn’t help “call” Merry -- they helped strengthen Frodo while he called Merry.  I agree with you -- the hobbits can handle things!

Willow:  Thank you very much for seeing logic in Saruman’s reasoning.  As you can see, you anticipated this chapter -- Gandalf really was shaken by Saruman’s words.

Yuna Dax:  I didn’t know, until I started writing this story, how many fans Elladan and Elrohir had.  And omigosh, you’re sighing and wallowing!  I’m thrilled.

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

“He was great once, of a noble kind that we should not dare to raise our hands against.  He is fallen, and his cure is beyond us; but I would still spare him, in the hope that he may find it.”  Frodo Baggins, The Return of the King, ‘The Scouring of the Shire’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 10 -- Even the Wise Cannot See All Ends

September 8

Frodo opened his eyes, blinking in the bright morning sunshine that flooded the tent.  The sides of the tent had been raised, and he breathed deeply of the fragrant summer air, which smelled of green forests and fresh grasses.  He started to sit up but, to his dismay, sank weakly back.

“You just lie still, Mr. Frodo.”  Sam was instantly at his bedside.

“I’m tired of lying still,” Frodo groaned, “but apparently I have no choice.  I was hoping that yesterday was just a bad dream.”

“It wasn’t,” Sam said.  “Are you feelin’ any better?”

“A little bit.  Awfully weak, but not nearly as hot or dizzy.  Do I look any better?”

“You’ve looked worse, sir,” Sam replied honestly.

Frodo smiled and held out his hand.  “Please tell me you’ve had some rest, Sam.”

“I have,” Sam grinned, clasping his master’s hand in his own.  “After your second bath brought your fever down, I thought it’d be safe to get a few winks.”

“My second bath?” Frodo gaped at him.  “When was…” His eyes suddenly widened.  “Where’s Merry?  Did he wake?”

“He surely did,” Sam assured him.  “Whatever you did, Mr. Frodo, it worked like a charm.”  He looked up as Merry joined them.

“Merry,” Frodo murmured, “I was so worried about you.”

Merry took Frodo into his arms and hugged him tightly.  “Do you remember coming to get me?”

Frodo shook his head.  “I don’t remember much after calling your name, and picturing you in my mind.  I think I remember a bath…” He glared at Sam.  “One bath.  And then I woke up, just a few minutes ago.  What do you remember?”

“Just bits and pieces,” Merry replied.  “There was all this light, and I remember that we were talking about… something…”  He smiled.  “It doesn’t matter, I suppose.”

“Whatever happened, I’m glad it worked,” Frodo smiled back.  He looked around at the empty tent.  “Where is everyone?”

“Elladan refused to stay in bed another second, and is walkin’ around the camp,” Sam replied.  “He’s all stiff and sore, but won’t admit it.”

“Stubborn as any Baggins,” Merry agreed.  “He’s nearly as bruised as Pippin was after that troll fell on him.”

“Elrohir will drag him back here for a rest any minute now,” Sam predicted.

Frodo suddenly motioned his cousin to come closer.  “Merry,” he whispered conspiratorily, “I need you to bring me my clothes.”

“Not a chance,” Merry chuckled.  “Elrond said you’d try that, Frodo.  There’s less chance of you wandering about in your nightshirt than in your clothes.  And he wants you to stay in bed, for at least today, and maybe tomorrow as well.  But for now, are you hungry?  Thirsty?  Sam, are you just going to let him lie here and starve?”

“I’ve got a tray nearly ready,” Sam grinned, rushing away.

“Frodo,” Merry frowned, “I remember something else.  You touched my chest with your hand, and I felt suddenly so… strong.  Like I could do anything.”

“It must have been Gandalf’s ring,” Frodo mused.

“What ring?”

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some clothes,” Frodo persisted.  “How about it?”

“I think you’re feeling better,” Merry said with a grin.  He gave Frodo’s hand a squeeze before stepping back to make room for Sam, carrying a laden breakfast tray.  Sam put the tray on a nearby table, and while Merry gently slid his arms around Frodo and raised him to a sitting position, Sam arranged enough pillows so that Frodo could sit up comfortably.

“This can’t be just from a fever,” Frodo sighed.  “I feel as weak as a baby.”

“Gandalf said it’s ’cause you fought off Saruman’s spell,” Sam explained.  “And Lord Elrond thinks you were hit pretty hard by somethin’ in the cave, and might still be feelin’ it.”  He watched happily as Frodo took a huge bite of a thick slice of bread covered with jam, while simultaneously reaching for a bowl of fresh berries.  “You’ve got a nice bump on your head, just like Mr. Pippin does.”

“Where is Pippin?”  Frodo saw Sam’s smile fade, and he hastily swallowed his mouthful.  “What is it?  Isn’t he all right?”

“He will be,” Merry sighed.  “Pip escaped from his bed this morning when our backs were turned, took two steps, and fainted.  Scared me to death.”  He shook his head in exasperation.  “When he woke up, he was so dizzy he could barely tell me from Gandalf, but he promptly accused us of keeping him prisoner in here.  He made such a fuss that Elrond carried him outside and let him lay in the sun on some cushions -- where he promptly fell asleep again.”

“I hope someone is watching him,” Frodo said.

“Like a hawk,” Sam replied with a grin.

“Troublesome Took,” Merry grumbled.  He suddenly looked at Frodo strangely.  “Do you remember Slitherdoc?”

“Barely.  Talk about troublesome…” Frodo stared at his cousin.  “Merry, I haven’t thought of that creature in 30 years.  What brought that up?”

“I don’t know,” Merry said slowly.  “I woke up thinking about him this morning, but I don’t know why.”

“Who’s Slitherdoc?” Sam asked.

“A snake,” Merry smiled.  “I only had him for a few days, a long time ago.”

“Maybe you dreamed about snakes ‘cause of those snakes Gandalf has in the guard tent,” Sam declared.  “I don’t like havin’ those two so close to camp.”

“Neither do I, Sam,” Gandalf said, entering the tent.  He smiled at Frodo.  “How are you feeling, my lad?”

“Like an invalid.”  Frodo glanced at Gandalf’s hand and thought he could just see a flicker of… something… on the wizard’s finger, then it was gone.  He looked up to see Gandalf smiling at him.

“It is there,” Gandalf said quietly.  “In time, you could learn to see it.”

Sam looked at Merry.  “Do you know what he’s talkin’ about?”

“Hardly ever,” Merry sighed.

“Gandalf,” Frodo said urgently, “I need to see Pippin.”

The wizard shook his head.  “Elrond left strict instructions that you are not to leave this bed, Frodo.”

“I have to see him,” Frodo insisted.  “Please, Gandalf.  I thought he was dead; I just need to see that he’s all right.”

“The orders of a healer outrank even those of a king, Frodo Baggins,” Gandalf said firmly.  “But if Elrond will not let you be moved yet, I promise to bring that young rascal in to see you.  Sam, Merry…” Gandalf addressed the two hobbits, “would you please locate Elrond and ask him to join us?”

“Gandalf,” Frodo said softly when they were alone, “did I really call Merry back?  Like Aragorn did for him?  And for Sam and me?”

“Not precisely,” Gandalf said thoughtfully.  “The gift of recalling someone from the brink of death may be unique to Aragorn; however, I had no doubt that you would be successful in contacting Merry.  You have some unique abilities.”

“Not as unique as you may think; I’ll bet Pip could have done it,” Frodo said thoughtfully.

Gandalf nodded.  “I agree.”

“And Merry might be able to do the same.  He’s shown “unique abilities” as well.”

“Has he?” Gandalf asked curiously.

“In the house of Tom Bombadil, Merry dreamed of water,” Frodo explained.  “He saw water rising in a dark pool, spreading everywhere, drowning all in its path.”

“Isengard,” Gandalf muttered.

“Yes.  And he spoke the strangest words when we were rescued from the barrow -- almost as if he wasn’t Merry, for a moment.”  Frodo smiled.  “I’m far from the only hobbit to have interesting dreams, or sense unusual things.  I’ve learned quite a bit about my cousins on this Quest.”

“And I am still learning,” the wizard chuckled.  “How is it that I have not yet uncovered all there is to know about hobbits?”

“We would hardly want your life to be boring,” Frodo replied.  He frowned as his hands, holding a mug of fresh juice, started to shake.  Gandalf took the mug and helped Frodo to drink.

“You have been through a great deal since yesterday, Frodo,” Gandalf said gently.  “Your strength will return, but you must be patient.”

Elrond entered the tent with Sam at his heels, and Merry not far behind.  Frodo did his best to look alert and in the bloom of health, but the master healer was silent as he sat on Frodo’s bed and looked the hobbit over.  Frodo had slept soundly all night and the fever, while not gone, was at least no longer dangerously high.  Frodo looked pale and weary, and when Elrond asked Frodo to squeeze his hand, he could feel how little strength the hobbit was able to muster.  The nearly-empty breakfast tray, however, was a good sign.

“Is the dizziness severe?” Elrond asked quietly.

“I can bear it,” Frodo replied.  “Gandalf says that this weakness will pass.”

“I agree,” Elrond nodded.  “I understand your need to see Pippin and assure yourself that he is well -- but you must rest, Frodo, for at least today.”  He held up his hand as Frodo opened his mouth to protest.  “However, I am certain that you can rest outside of this tent as well as in it.  I will arrange some cushions next to Pippin.”

“We’ll do it,” Merry said, and he and Sam dashed off again.

“Thank you,” Frodo said to Elrond.  “How is Elladan?  I have been concerned about him.”

“Elladan has been most concerned about you, as well.  He will be greatly relieved to know that you are on the mend,” Elrond smiled at the hobbit.  “All of you are recovering.  Your young cousin, however, has already paid the price for trying to do too much, too soon; I trust you will not need to learn that same lesson?”

“If I am to be outdoors, I will need my clothes,” Frodo insisted, leaving the Elf Lord’s question unanswered.

“Not just yet,” Elrond said firmly.  Even though the morning was fine and warm, he wrapped Frodo in several blankets before lifting him, and carrying him outside.  Frodo looked about the camp, happy to be free of the tent, but almost immediately Elrond felt the small curly head resting once more upon his chest.  Unlike Pippin, Elrond knew that Frodo hadn’t the strength to stand or walk; at least one of his charges would not need such careful watching as the others.  Yet.

“They’re still here,” Frodo murmured, his eyes on Saruman and Wormtongue as they walked about, confined to a small area of the camp and under heavy guard.  “What is to be done with them?”

“I am certain that Gandalf will open his thoughts to us soon,” Elrond said.  “Here we are.”  He knelt gracefully and sat Frodo on one of the large cushions that Merry and Sam had brought to rest next to where Pippin lay asleep.  He supported Frodo in a seated position while the hobbit filled his eyes with the sight of his cousin.

“He’s so pale,” Frodo whispered.

“He was in bad shape when he got here, sir,” Sam said quietly.  “Mr. Pippin’s lucky to be alive, I’d say.  He’s nowhere near ready to be walkin’ about.”

“You are correct, Sam,” Elrond said.  “If there is any way to keep this youngster abed short of tying him to it, I am willing to hear it.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Frodo said softly.  Merry and Sam exchanged amused looks; Frodo was only slightly less pale than Pippin, and was obviously still very weak.  If they had to tie them both to their beds in order to recover properly, they would.  Sam sat down, and Elrond settled Frodo against him.

Elrohir and Elladan approached the hobbits, and Frodo winced at the sight of the lengths of bandages wrapped about the Elf’s chest.  “Elladan,” he said, “I’m so happy to see you.  Could you stay and talk for a bit?  Would sitting be too painful for you?”

“I am overjoyed to see you as well, Frodo,” Elladan grinned.  He was more than happy to remain with the hobbits and talk.  Since he suspected that his brother and father could sense how weary he was, he was certain that both had been about to order him back to bed.  With the assistance of Elrohir, he carefully lowered himself down to one of the cushions.

“I will leave all of you for a time,” Elrond said.  Sam looked up at him and nodded slightly, and the Elf Lord smiled and left.  He was leaving his charges in good hands.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“How are they?” Gandalf asked Elrond a short time later.

“Intolerably stubborn,” Elrond grumbled.  “I am greatly tempted to hide Frodo’s clothes, assign a full-time guard to Pippin, and remind my son that while immortal, he is not invulnerable.”  He sighed.  “I suspect that both Frodo and Pippin will be sleeping a great deal over the next few days.  You had best talk with them now, Gandalf, while they are all together, and awake.”

Gandalf nodded and approached the small group talking and laughing.  Pippin was now sitting up, propped against Merry, Elladan was seated next to (and being subtly supported by) Elrohir, and Frodo was leaning heavily against Sam.  All six looked up as the wizard approached.

“Forgive the intrusion,” Gandalf said, seating himself on the grass near the group.  “There is something I need to ask Elladan, Merry, and Frodo.”

“What is it, Gandalf?” Elladan asked.

“It concerns the matter of Saruman and his servant,” Gandalf continued.  “I have been thinking that their fate should be discussed by those he has injured.”

“You want us to decide the fate of a wizard?” Merry gasped.

“Ex-wizard,” Elrohir reminded him.

“He is of my Order,” Gandalf said gravely, “and I will make the final decision.  However, I would appreciate hearing your thoughts.  Should they be imprisoned?  Sent to the king for judgment?  Or should we do nothing, and allow them to leave?”

“Leave?” Sam said incredulously.  “You can’t just let ’em leave.  After what they’ve done?”

“Saruman plans to forge more rings, Gandalf,” Merry said urgently.  “He said that he would give them to the kings of Gondor and Rohan -- or to future generations, when years of peace had rendered the kingdoms less vigilant.  I say that Saruman should be sent to the king.  Aragorn must be told about this.”

“Gondor is too far, and those two are still dangerous,” Elladan argued.  “They cannot be trusted, even made once more mute, and sent under guard.  King Thranduil still maintains dungeons, does he not?  Send them there.”

“Frodo?” Gandalf asked.  All eyes turned to meet Frodo’s troubled blue ones.

“Let them go,” Frodo said quietly.

“Why?” Pippin asked in amazement.  “He would have killed you all!”

“Frodo,” Merry reminded him, “Saruman knows everything about us, now.  He knows about the Shire, and, well… everything.  What might he do if he’s set free?”

“Saruman was as much enslaved by the Ring as Gollum, or… or me,” Frodo explained.  “I can feel nothing for him but pity, and sadness.”

“But he never touched it, or even saw it,” Sam reminded him.  “It wasn’t the Ring that turned him evil, but his own greed.”

“There’s no way to know that.  Sam, even you cannot imagine the insidious nature of the Ring.  Who is to say what effect it had on Saruman, even if he never touched or saw it?”  Frodo turned to Gandalf.  “His staff is broken, and his own ring unmade.  Does he still have the ability to forge rings of power?”

Gandalf was silent for a time.  “To forge rings of great craft and subtlety, perhaps,” he said at last.  “To infuse them with power, or exert control through them, to a bearer?  I would say no.  He is capable of small mischiefs at best, woven through the spell of his voice and the arrogance of a black heart.”

“Then he cannot carry out his plan to control the kings or their descendants,” Frodo declared.

“What of imprisoning him?” asked Elrohir.

“The Elves will not always dwell in Middle-earth,” said Frodo.  “What then of those who are imprisoned in Mirkwood?  Who will guard them?”

Merry and Elladan both slowly nodded.

“So be it,” Gandalf said.  “They will be permitted to leave.”

“Gandalf,” Frodo asked, “had you come to the same decision?”

“You made the same decision I would have, Frodo, but for a different reason.  I do not believe that Saruman’s fate lies in my hands, but in his own.  For good or ill, he must choose his own way and reap the consequences.”  Without warning, Gandalf smiled broadly and took Frodo into his arms.  “I am proud of you, my lad,” he murmured.  “So very, very proud.”

Frodo smiled and relaxed, suddenly overcome with drowsiness.  Gandalf held Frodo until he fell asleep, but was prevented from taking him back to bed by the protest of five soft voices.  Smiling, the wizard lay Frodo down gently, and Pippin promply slid down next to him.  Elladan gazed longingly at the empty space next to the hobbits, and could muster only a minimal struggle when Elrohir eased him down beside them.  In a matter of minutes, all three were asleep.

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Agent Pip:  I’m glad everyone’s all right, too!

Ailsa Joy:  “Master of the unconscious hobbit”??  Hee hee.

Ainu Laire:  I’m intrigued by the “courting story” as well, but it will be for someone else to write.  Every time I try to get Celeborn to tell me, Elrond steers him away on some invented errand.

aprilkat:  Chapter 9 was such a relief for me, as well.  And no matter how many blankets Frodo is wrapped in, I’m glad he’s still coming across as heroic, strong, resilient, and unstoppable.

Ariel3:  I’m so happy that this story is giving you such a satisfying, multi-course meal.  I must remember to leave little mints on your pillow tonight.

bandosax15:  Yes, I had to make sure that everyone got enough comfort to balance out the angst!

Baylor:  You’re always quick to pick up on the strength of the characters.  I do try to show their strength and resilience, no matter how many blankets they’re wrapped up in.  I never want to write a weak or whiny hobbit, since I don’t see them that way at all.  And I do love all the passages you highlighted.  You picked some of my favoritest lines.

Bluegrass Elf:  Elrond certainly did interfere with Celeborn telling Merry “the story”!  It must be pretty embarrassing.

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  Warm fuzzies at last!  You knew I’d get around to lots of hobbity teasing and sweetness eventually.

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  Isn’t it satisfying that so many kind and gentle folks are tending to Frodo (and the other hobbits)?  They deserve no less.

Connie:  You’re writing!  Yay!

cpsings4him:  Comfort time at last!  It was almost worth getting into that nasssty Saruman’s head to get to the cuddly, blanketty part of the story.

Elenar:  Those Merry-Pip conversations are such fun.  I love it when hobbits speak lightly but with a lot under the surface that goes unsaid (but which they both know is there).

Elendiari22:  At last there was a chapter to let loose all the banter, teasing, and lightheartedness I’ve been stifling for so long.  Free at last!

elentari*angel:  I apologize that your username gets mangled at ff.net -- no asterisk (although there’s no problem at Stories of Arda if you would rather read these author notes there).  Hobbits… sigh… we do love them so awfully much.

Elven Kitten:  You’re right -- Elrond will apparently do everything in his power to keep that story a secret.

Elwen:  I can’t get enough of Elrond caring for Frodo, either.  (And I’m sure Elrond is secretly pleased to be looking so competent in front of his father-in-law.)

endymion2:  “Slitherdoc” seemed a logical name for a seven-year old hobbit to choose for a pet snake, especially a hobbit named Meriadoc, with a father named Saradoc and a great-grandfather named Gorbadoc!

Esamen:  Thank you so much.  I think I put extra attention on the ‘comfort’ part of hurt/comfort (when we finally get there), because that’s the part of stories I enjoy writing (and reading) the most.  No matter how many blankets Frodo is wrapped in, I’m so glad he’s still coming across as heroic, strong, resilient, and unstoppable.

Firnsarnien:  You see Frodo the same way I do -- a combination of rare strength and a wounded spirit, and who both gives and needs support.  I hope you feel that Frodo’s reasoning regarding Saruman’s fate is logical and believable.  (And Budgie wrote you a story, and we all get to enjoy it!  How cool is that?)

GamgeeFest:  I doubt that “canon” Pippin intuitively knew how Merry was doing without asking, but in my hobbity universe, he does.  And I imagine that Gandalf truly would be a cranky patient!  Many people who aren’t used to being sick have little patience for it.

Gayalondiel:  Thank you for the squeezy snugs!  I shared them with the hobbits, and now they all want to come over for dinner.  I gave them your address -- hope that’s okay?

Gentle Hobbit:  Since Frodo was wearing one of the Three, and being touched by the other two, I thought Merry might see him “shining” rather spectacularly -- not to say that Frodo wouldn’t shine all by himself.  I’m so glad you liked how he handled “calling” Merry back.

girlofring:  And the comfort continues!  I couldn’t possibly just have one cuddly chapter after all that angst, now could I?

Hai Took:  Thank you for picking up on the fact that the first thing Pippin asked Merry was if he got any dinner!  That line made me smile -- it seemed very “hobbity”.

hobbitfeet13:  Frodo’s not completely well yet, so I hope you enjoy every dizzy, sleepy moment!

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  I’m afraid someone else will have to write the scene where Celeborn embarrasses Elrond with that story; I like leaving some things up to our imagination.

hyperactive forever:  Elladan is being very brave, but I just know he’s in a lot of pain in this chapter.  Definitely in need of a few more hugs, if you ask me.

illyria:  I couldn’t wait to get to the cuddly part of the story!  I think I enjoyed writing Chapters 9 and 10 more than any others.

Iorhael:  Frodo is indeed strong and noble.  Absolutely.

Jenni:  I haven’t even printed out my stories myself, although I probably should!  Thank you again for enjoying, and for such a lovely compliment.

KumQuat1:  Thank you, KumQuat!  I hope you like the continuation of the ‘comfort’ in this chapter.  There can never be enough hobbity-comfort.

Lady Jaina:  And now look at those beautiful long nails you have!  Take good care of them until the next angsty story.

Laughing Half Elf:  I hope you got some studying done!  Maybe I should send some hobbits over to help you with your homework.

Leah Beth:  Comfort comfort comfort comfort.  *happy sigh*

Leia Wood:  I’m so glad you enjoyed the hobbity conversation in Chapter 9; I loved writing it.

Lindelea:  Anytime I can weave canon into an AU tale, I will.  Those canon police are rather scary -- best to let them sleep.

lovethosehobbits:  A bit of FroAngst, a lot of FroComfort.  Ah, life is good, Tree.

Lyta Padfoot:  As you can see, Frodo reveals Merry’s “psychic talents” to Gandalf in this chapter.

MagicalRachel:  Thank you for the “wow”!  What a lovely compliment.

Mariole:  It was a real challenge trying to figure out what Merry’s “trapped” experience was like from Merry’s POV.  I’m so glad it worked.

Meethrill:  I’d love it if something in one of my stories inspired you to expand on it.

Meldewen Ilce:  It’s great to be able to finally pull some teasing and humor back into this story!

melilot hill:  Two chapters in a row without cliffhangers!  I must be losing my touch.

Mint Sauce:  It’s been agony waiting until I could finally put some humor and hobbityness back into this story.  Agony, I tell you!  And someone else will have to write the scene where Celeborn embarrasses Elrond with that story; I like leaving some things up to our imagination.

Mish:  You’re right about the updates; since this story began on March 12, I’ve actually been able to post a chapter every 1-2 weeks.  Don’t ask me how!  I do hate putting the hobbits through so much angst, but it certainly does set up a lot of cuddly comfort.

Pippinfan1988:  I’m happy you enjoyed Chapter 9 so much!  I certainly enjoyed writing it.

pipwise brandygin:  The Big Folk are doing all the fetching, carrying, feeding, and washing, aren’t they?  Thanks for catching that!  And you’re so right -- “even when Pippin is only awake for a couple of minutes he still manages to steal the show!”  Absolutely.

RogerGamgee:  Hobbits have all kinds of “hidden abilities” that pop out at the strangest times.  I highlight Merry’s in this chapter, and I know there are tons more.  Lots of hobbity stories yet to be written…

SapphireMeriadocTook:  You just knew I’d ease all the teasing and lightheartedness back into the story at my first opportunity, didn’t you?  :)

shana40347:  Thank you so much, shana!  I’m having such a great time writing, and it’s a real thrill that there are folks enjoying these stories.

The Lady Shieldmaiden:  I’ve put “book quotes” at the top of my chapters for several stories such as “Reflections of the Past” and “Sing Me Home”, and it’s something I enjoy.  It helps me to keep even an AU story like this one tied in to Professor Tolkien’s masterwork.

The End!  If you’re interested in my look at the hobbits’ arrival in Rivendell and their two-week stay there, my story “Return to Rivendell” covers that part of the Tale.  (And the fate of Saruman and Wormtongue is told in ‘The Scouring of the Shire’ in The Return of the King.)

Responses to reviews are located at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Note:  Ernil i Pheriannath [“prince of the halflings”] was a title given to Pippin by the citizens of Gondor.

DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

___________________________

The Took family … was liable to produce in every generation strong characters of peculiar habits and even adventurous temperament.  The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘Prologue’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 11 -- Looking Ahead

September 10

Pippin had been prepared for the worst, but he was surprised at how little pain there really was.  Until the last few stitches, that is.  As Celeborn tugged gently at the last thread, Pippin gritted his teeth and clutched Merry’s shirt even tighter than he had been.

“Here now,” Celeborn said softly, “enough of that.  Let go, that’s it.”

To the hobbits’ surprise, the Elf Lord wasn’t addressing Pippin -- but the thread.  As if in response to his cajoling, the thread slid free of Pippin’s arm.

“Finished,” Celeborn announced.  “Forgive me, Pippin, that there was any discomfort.”  Although the majority of the sutures in Pippin’s arm would remain in place for some days, Celeborn had deemed it safe to remove a number of threads between which an area of skin -- the more shallow part of the cut -- was already healing nicely.

“It really wasn’t bad,” Pippin said, surprised.  He looked with interest at his arm, and the long red line, running from his wrist nearly to his elbow, where the heavy Dwarvish glass had sliced into him in the cave.  Merry pried Pippin’s fingers loose from his shirt with a chuckle, but inside, he was shaking.  It was obvious that the cut had been deep and very serious; if that glass had cut Pippin’s wrist just half an inch lower, his young cousin would never have lived long enough to make it out of the cave, let alone back to camp.

“I knew it,” Sam murmured.  He picked up a few of the cut threads of hithlain and studied them.

“Knew what?” Frodo asked.

“That rope in the Black Lands did come when I called it, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said triumphantly.  “It was made of the same stuff as this, wasn’t it?” He asked Celeborn, who nodded.  “It came when I called, the same way this came loose when Lord Celeborn asked it to.”

“How about that?” Frodo said with a grin.  “Do you still have some of that rope, Sam?  It might come in handy someday.”

“I surely do,” Sam said firmly.  “I’m never going anywhere again without a bit of rope.”

Celeborn re-bandaged Pippin’s arm, loosely, and got to his feet.  “Everything looks fine,” he said.  “Elrond will remove the remainder of the sutures when they are no longer required.”

Pippin’s face fell.  “You’ll have left us by then, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Celeborn replied.  “In two days’ time, our people return to the Golden Wood, and you will continue toward Rivendell.”

“I wish you would stay longer,” Pippin sighed.

“Thank you, my friend,” the Elf Lord smiled.  “I have enjoyed getting to know all of you better during this time.”  He started to leave the tent, then turned and looked at Frodo.  “Elrond will be in to see you soon.”

Two days earlier, Frodo and Pippin awoke from their outdoor nap to find Saruman gone -- and that they had been carried back to their own beds, in the tent shared by the hobbits.  Pippin had been delighted to be out from under the close watch of the healers, only to discover that Merry -- his very own cousin -- was an even sterner taskmaster than even Lord Elrond.  However, a steady stream of visitors, offering quiet talk, songs, and stories, helped the impatient youngster through two more days of minimal activity.  With the enforced bed rest, regular and wonderfully large meals, and continued doses of the Elves’ tonic, Pippin had improved so steadily that he was now free to come and go as he pleased.

Frodo’s recuperation, however, had been much slower, and he hadn’t needed anyone to keep him abed -- although he enjoyed the visitors as much as Pippin.  His satisfaction at having his clothing restored to him had been somewhat lessened by the fact that he had spent more time over the past two days asleep than awake.  His periods of sleep had been long and deep, until at last his body began to recover from the weakness caused by fever, injury, and resistance to the relentless, still-potent voice of Saruman.

“Don’t fret sir,” Sam said reassuringly.  “You’re nearly all well again.  You’re not sleepin’ nearly as much as you were, and that’s a fact.”

“True,” Frodo said with a smile.  “At least that dreadful dizziness is gone.”

“Elrond will give you a clean bill of health,” Merry said.

“I hope so,” Frodo sighed.  “I no longer wish to be carried about everywhere, like a babe.”  He looked up hopefully as the tent flap lifted, but it wasn’t Elrond -- it was Elladan.

“Sam, Merry, Pippin,” Elladan said, “might I speak with Frodo alone?”

The three hobbits scurried off -- Sam to ensure that some of his master’s favorite foods were being prepared for luncheon, and Merry staying close to Pippin, who still tired easily.  Elladan sat next to Frodo’s bed.

“How are you feeling?” Frodo asked.  He grinned and motioned to the Elf’s tunic.  “I see that your clothing was returned to you, as well.”

“At last,” Elladan smiled.  “However, in my case, becoming properly attired was hampered by pain.  It is only today that I am able to raise my arms easily enough to be able to once again wear my tunic.”

“We were all very lucky,” Frodo said quietly.

“In your case, Frodo, it was much more than luck,” Elladan replied.  “May we talk about what happened, between Saruman and yourself?”  Frodo nodded.  “Elrohir tells me that you were able to resist Saruman’s voice.”

“Yes.”

“Because the Ring spoke in such a way, and you recognized it.”

“The Ring didn’t exactly speak,” Frodo said thoughtfully, “but I found that it influenced my thoughts and actions in subtle ways -- and more strongly, as it was brought closer to its place of origin.  When Saruman attempted to replace my thoughts with his own, and sway me to his reasoning, it was very similar.”

Elladan nodded.  “That is how his voice affected me, as well, although I was less able to resist it.”  He frowned in thought.  “Bilbo described the voice of Smaug in similar terms.  He said that a dragon takes truth and twists it so that you doubt your own thoughts.”

“Yes.”  Frodo looked at the Elf curiously.  “What troubles you, Elladan?”

“Nothing, now,” Elladan said with a smile.  “It is just that my admiration and respect for both you and Bilbo, while not inconsiderable before, has risen to new heights recently.  To resist the Ring for so long, if it was anything like the heavy weight of Saruman’s words, is a feat of which you should be very proud.”

“Elladan,” Frodo murmured, “I only---”

“I will not say more if you would rather not hear it.  But I have learned, from this experience, the answer to something I have pondered since the day of the Council in Rivendell.”

”What is it?”

“I have not understood why my father did not take it upon himself to carry the Ring to the Fire,” the Elf said quietly.  “He bears a ring of power, as you know, and has used it only for healing and preservation.  I did not believe he could be corrupted by the One Ring, or would listen to its call.  I know now that I was mistaken.  If he had taken the Ring, Frodo, I do not think he would have returned.  Or if he had returned…” Elladan looked grim.  “We might not have recognized him.  Middle-earth might not now be at peace if other choices had been made, or had you and Sam been less strong.”

“Elladan,” Frodo asked softly, “will you stay in Middle-earth?”

“I will stay, at least for now,” Elladan replied.  “You have shown me more than you know, Frodo.  I have much to learn, still, about mercy and strength, healing and forgiveness.”  He rose to leave, then turned back.  “When I have learned fully what you and Bilbo already know, when I have found true peace within myself… perhaps then I will turn my eyes to the West.”

“And Elrohir?”

“We will not be parted from the other,” Elladan said with a smile.  “We are of one heart and one mind.”  He bowed deeply, then left.

Frodo did not have much time to ponder his conversation with Elladan before Elrond came to check on his remaining patient.  To Frodo’s surprise, the Elf Lord did not approach his bed, but remained at the entrance to the tent.  With a smile, he motioned for Frodo to come to him.

Frodo slid carefully to his feet, then stood for a moment, gauging his strength and balance.  Slowly, but with no difficulty, he walked to where Elrond was standing, and looked up at the Elf Lord.

“Well?” Frodo demanded.

“I see no reason to keep you abed any longer, Frodo,” Elrond decided.  “You and your cousins have made quite remarkable recoveries.”  He sat down on Sam’s bed, and Frodo sat beside him.

“Everyone did wonders keeping Pippin quiet and resting,” Elrond remarked.  “You must be quite practiced.”

“We are,” Frodo grinned, “but it wasn’t that difficult.  It’s hard for Pip to stay still for long, but he’s nobody’s fool.  Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t ready to go running about -- until today, that is.”

“We will be encamped here for several more days,” Elrond said.  “I hope you and Pippin will take every opportunity to rest.”

“We will.  And thank you, Lord Elrond.  I am certain you have had more cooperative patients.”

“Not many!” the Elf Lord laughed.  “My own sons can be as stubborn as any hobbit.”  A shadow of sorrow crossed his face.  “My tasks in Middle-earth are ending; it may be a long time before I see my sons again.”

“Are you leaving soon?” Frodo asked quietly.

Elrond nodded.  “In a few short years, Frodo, I will travel to the Havens and take ship to the West.  I know that this choice is still before you.  When the time approaches, I will send you a message, so that you may decide what to do.”

“A message?” Frodo asked curiously.  “How will you send it?”

“It will not be a message of parchment, but from mind to mind.”  Elrond smiled gently at the hobbit.  “You will know when we are on our way, my friend.  Of that I have no doubt.”

*~*~*~*~*

Gentle evening darkened to night, and the camp grew quiet.  In one small tent three hobbits lay in their beds, longing for sleep, but Pippin was pacing restlessly about.

“We leave in a few days,” Pippin mused.

“What of it?” Merry asked.

“I was just thinking…”

“Uh oh,” Frodo sighed.  “Out with it, Pip.”

Pippin turned to them, his eyes sparkling.  “There are three other caves up there.  Aren’t you curious about them?  Why did the dwarves dig four openings in the same place?  Why not just one?  Maybe they’re all different.  Maybe---”

Merry pulled Pippin down beside him, and calmly pressed a practiced hand over his cousin’s mouth.  “Just what is it about Tooks, anyway?” he asked Frodo.  “Hasn’t this hobbit had enough adventure already to last him ten lifetimes?”

“Have you?” Frodo asked.  “You’re half Took, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“And you’re---”

“Enough Took to be curious about those caves, as well,” Frodo admitted.

“I can’t believe I’m hearin’ this,” Sam said with a groan.  “Have you lost your mind?  That is, have you lost your mind, sir?” he amended.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Frodo grinned.  “I’m not enough Took to want to go back there.”

“Just add it to your list, Pip,” Merry sighed.

Frodo looked from Merry to Pippin.  “Do I want to know about this list?”

“Your daft cousin…” Merry began.

“My cousin?”

“…has a list of things he wants to do someday.  It’s very long, Frodo.”

“It’s not that long,” Pippin huffed, pushing Merry’s hand away.  “Admit it, Frodo, you’ve always wanted to go see Smaug’s body too, haven’t you?”

“I have?”

“And the Balrog!  Don’t you wonder what’s left of it?”

“Peregrin, the peak of that mountain has to be at least a mile above us.”

“It can’t be that high,” Pippin declared.

“What else is on your list, Mr. Pippin?” Sam asked, fascinated.

Frodo groaned and pulled the blanket over his head, but Pippin jumped to his feet and yanked it back down.

“And what about the eagles?” Pippin persisted, staring into his cousin’s blue eyes.

“What about them?”

“You may have ridden on one, but I haven’t.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call what we did riding, Mr. Pippin,” Sam frowned, “especially since neither of us remembers it.”

“Frodo,” Pippin said quietly, suddenly serious, “once we get home, I’ll just be a tween again.  It’ll be years before there’ll be another chance for adventure.  Out here…” he sighed, and Frodo sat up and smiled at him.

“Out here,” Frodo said, “you’re the Ernil i Pheriannath, is that it?”

“Well…”

“Pippin, tween or not, you are still a Knight of Gondor and Messenger of the King,” Frodo declared proudly.

“Don’t forget the troll you killed,” Sam said.

“Or the lives you saved,” Merry added.  “Faramir and Beregond would both be dead now, if not for you.”

“Maybe Elladan, too,” Frodo said softly.

“What do you mean?” Pippin asked, puzzled.

“What possessed you to leave the star-glass with him?”

“It just…” Pippin thought back to the cave, then shook his head.  “I don’t know.  It just came to me that it might help him feel better -- less alone, maybe.  Did it?”

“It did more than that,” Frodo replied.  “Elrond told me that, without it, Elladan might have been too weak to hold on until help came.”

“Really?” Pippin beamed.

“Just keep followin’ your instincts, Mr. Pippin,” Sam told him.  “You’ll be fine, tween or not.”

Pippin blushed and looked down, at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

“Pip,” Frodo chuckled, “I wouldn’t worry too much.  You’ll be the tallest, best armed, farthest travelled tween ever to hit the Shire, and your stories and songs already rival Bilbo’s.  I doubt anyone will treat you like a child, ever again.”

Frodo yawned and lay down again, but was suddenly enveloped in a fierce hug.  He could see Pippin’s eyes, just inches from his, shining with joy.

“’Night, Pip,” Frodo smiled.

“’Night.”

** END **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ainu Laire:  Oh thank you so much.  I knew this story would be darker than my usual, but I did hope that folks would stick around long enough for it to find its way back to the light.

aprilkat:  I’m so happy to find ways to write about Gandalf’s pride in ‘his’ hobbits.  He recognized their potential before anyone else.

Ariel:  And that concludes our meal!  I hope you enjoyed your stay.

Arwen Baggins:  What a relief to have brought this angsty story around to a hobbity conclusion.

Auntiemeesh:  Frodo is so special, isn’t he?  What a wonderful character to write (and love).

Birch tree:  I enjoyed uncovering all the little ways the hobbits showed unique ‘abilities’ throughout the trilogy.  Fanfic authors have only begun to scratch the surface.

Bluegrass Elf:  Ah, our incorrigible Pippin.  We wouldn’t want him any other way!

Bodkin:  There is something Elf-like about hobbits.  Even Faramir, in The Two Towers, said that he thought there was an “Elvish air” about Frodo even though he’d never seen an Elf himself.

Bookworm2000:  Thank you for trying so hard to review Chapter 10 -- ff.net was having one of those days, wasn’t it?  Ah yes, hobbits are wonderfully stubborn.  A formidable race, altogether.

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  Glad you enjoyed Pippin’s little escapade; it’s difficult to keep an active tween in bed, hobbit or human!

Carcilwen:  Thank you for all your support and encouragement.

ClaudiaofBree:  You sensed a full-circle ending, and you were right!  Hope it was satisfying.  I really appreciated what you said in your review of Chapter 9.  It’s possible that when the threat is more complex and requires in-depth research -- such as Saruman -- the other characters must evolve in complexity to deal with it and stay strong.  If my writing is really reflecting that, I’m so glad to have it pointed out.  (I’m curious to see what will happen when I tackle the Barrow-downs, which I’m planning.)

Connie:  I agree, it’s been a hectic spring; hopefully the summer will bring lots of time to write -- for all of us.

cpsings4him:  No matter how far from canon this story may have strayed, I always planned that the fate of Saruman would bring us back to the book -- with him set free, and on his way to the Shire.

Darth Stitch aka Jedi Skysong:  None of us wanted to see Saruman set free!  But it was my way of bringing this story back to ‘canon’ -- he and Wormtongue are now on their way to the Shire, as per the book.

Elenar:  Ah, poor Elrond!  But I’ll bet he was enjoying every minute of it.  What’s a healer without patients?

elentari*angel:  Hobbitses are all better -- I couldn’t bear any more angst, either!

Elven Kitten:  If that elusive and embarrassing courtship story is worth telling, some fanfic writer will tell it!

Elwen:  I tried to make Frodo’s reasoning about letting Saruman go as logical as possible -- I’m so glad it worked.

EmeraldFaith:  The hobbits love your hugs!

endymion2:  Yes, the villains leave and everyone lives happily ever after.  This is one of my stories, remember!

esamen:  Two reviews for one chapter!  I agree about Aragorn’s strength and importance; I was sorry I couldn’t include him in this story, as I’ve grown very fond of writing about him.  And believe it or not, I think the hobbits would have had plenty of nightshirts, etc. to wear.  Before they left Minas Tirith, Aragorn told Frodo that he would see them “arrayed as princes of the land” -- the hobbits were in Gondor for months, and I suspect that full wardrobes were made for them before they headed for home.

Firnsarnien:  As I planned from the beginning, the decision to release Saruman brought us back to canon -- with him set free, and on his way to the Shire.  Writing such an arrogant character was fascinating, but I’m glad to return to my lighthearted hobbitses!

FrodoFollower:  I’m glad you found this story and have enjoyed it so much!

GamgeeFest:  Cranky patients are the most fun (to write about, anyway!).

Gentle Hobbit:  I’m happy to have given you some ideas to chew on!  We all inspire each other so much.

Hai Took:  I wasn’t sure that hobbits and Elves napping together would seem logical, so thank you for saying you liked that part!

hobbitfeet13:  Even though Frodo’s reasoning and decision about Saruman may have been uncomfortable, I’m glad to hear that they seemed logical and true to his character.

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  I always thought that the dreams the hobbits had in the house of Tom Bombadil were very interesting, and this story seemed a good place to highlight Merry’s.

hyperactive forever:  Elladan has never had so many hugs!  And as you can see, you scared Saruman away completely.  You rock!

illyria-pffyffin:  Thank you.  I may not write about Saruman again, but you can be sure that I’ll be writing about something!  And soon.

Iorhael:  You’re right -- no matter how far from canon this story may have strayed, I always planned that the fate of Saruman would bring us back to the book -- with him set free, and on his way to the Shire.

Jenni:  My chapters are about three times longer than they were when I started writing two years ago, and I’m so happy to hear that they feel “just right”!

Lady Jaina:  I take every opportunity to write “gentleness and light humor” -- it’s one of my favorite ways to tell a story.

Laughing Half Elf:  Pippin would love to help with your homework, as long as there are frequent snack breaks.

Leah Beth:  Your review made perfect sense.  Combining fluff with angst is my favorite way to write.  I like there to be excitement and twists to keep a story interesting, but enough love, lightheartedness, resilience, and gentle strength to weave hope and ‘hobbityness’ all the way through it.

Leia Wood:  We all want to nurse them back to health, Leia!  I think that’s why so many of us write hurt/comfort.

LilyBaggins:  What a relief to know that this strange blend of cuddles and canon is satisfying, Lily.  I really do write certain passages with you in mind!

Lindelea:  I’m greatly complimented by your wishing this story would go “ever on”, but… ah well!  There will be other tales to tell, and soon.  Thank you so much for your enthusiasm.

lovethosehobbits:  Yes, Frodo’s merciful decision about Saruman bodes ill for the Shire, but what else could he have done?

Lyta Padfoot:  Elrond had to give Frodo back his clothes eventually, but it was a fun battle of wills while it lasted.

melilot hill:  Yes, Elves and hobbits can be equally stubborn -- what fun.

Pippinfan1988:  We do love our hobbits so much!  It’s so hard to explain to non-fans, isn’t it?

pipwise brandygin:  That’s it, exactly -- the hobbits are just too cute, and they don’t even know it!  How can anyone resist fussing over them?

rabidsamfan:  I’ll let Prof. Tolkien take care of Saruman’s “comeuppance” -- dead at the hand of his servant, at the very door of Bag End.

Samwise the Strong:  The answer to why Frodo would want Saruman set free can be found in the quote I use at the top of Chapter 10, which is from the chapter ‘The Scouring of the Shire’ from ROTK.  Frodo’s pity and sense of mercy (like Bilbo’s) are quite amazing.

SapphireMeriadocTook:  The healers have really had their hands full with their stubborn patients, haven’t they?  As we all know, it’s hard to stay in bed when you’re used to being active and independent.