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.

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“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*