WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON

Chapter 2 --- Smoke and Mirrors

The second day on the River passed uneventfully, as did the third.  By the time the fourth afternoon arrived, Pippin was so restless he thought he would burst.  (But he made a great effort not to.)  He was sitting next to Boromir, and Merry was lying down between the front and middle seats thinking about nothing in particular.

Pippin kicked his cousin lightly on the leg.  “How can you be comfortable down there, Merry?  It’s all damp.”

”If this is the wettest I get by the time we get to the end of this river, I’ll be lucky.”  Merry frowned a little.  “Strange sky today.  Don’t you think so, Boromir?”

“It is a peculiar color, I’ll grant you that.  A storm coming up, most likely.”

Pippin sighed, thoroughly bored.  As he had no idea where they were, it felt like every day was the same and they weren’t getting anywhere.  “Where are we?  Have we come very far yet?”

Boromir started to talk when he realized that Merry was already answering Pippin’s question.

“To the east are the Brown Lands,” Merry said lazily.  “Not much to speak of there.  To the west are some hills and Downs and then that Fangorn Forest we’re supposed to stay away from.” 

Boromir was staring down at him, amazed at the hobbit’s knowledge of lands he had never seen. 

Merry continued,  “Really, Pip what did you do all that time in Rivendell?  There were maps all over the place.”

“I didn’t think they’d let me come, you know,” said Pippin quietly.  “Even if they let you accompany Frodo, I figured they’d bundle me up right quick and ship me home.  Just didn’t seem to be any need to study maps and things.”

Merry sat up, taken by Pippin’s serious tone.  “Are you still glad Elrond let you come?”

”Yes,” said Pippin firmly.  He looked up at the darkening sky and desolate lands about them.  “Well, most of the time.”

At the next likely spot, Aragorn called a halt.  A breeze coming from the east made it easy to bring the boats to the western side of the river.

“We should cover the boats and make camp.  I don’t like the look of that sky.”

Everyone complied, piling some food and bedding near a scraggly tree under some extra waterproof covers the elves had provided.  Frodo had just dropped his pack on the pile, when he looked up the grassy slope and froze.  His mouth moved soundlessly in one word, “Gandalf?”  Frodo suddenly took off at a dead run up the slope, and was past the trees before anyone knew what was happening.

“Frodo!”  Aragorn shouted, but the hobbit didn’t stop.  “Boromir, keep everyone here.  Don’t let them scatter.  Sam, stay here!”

Frodo had run through the scattered trees and out onto a grassy meadow before Aragorn caught up, grabbing him and forcing him down to the ground  They lay, gasping for breath.

“Frodo, where are you going?  Why didn’t you stop?”  Aragorn shook Frodo gently, as the hobbit seemed not to hear him.

“Aragorn?”  Frodo looked around with a puzzled look on his face.  “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Gandalf!  I saw him, Aragorn, he was waving to me.  He was...” Frodo pointed at the empty meadow.  “He was right...”

“I don’t know what you saw, but we have to get back.  Gandalf isn’t here, Frodo.  He can’t be.”  The Ranger rose, helping Frodo to his feet.  “Come on, we’ll---”

At that moment there was a blinding light and thunderous crash... then another.   Frodo gasped and pressed his hands over his ears.  Twin lightning strikes out of the unquiet sky had ignited the dry winter grass between them and the trees through which they had just emerged.  Before they could react, a breeze from the east whipped into a strong wind, helping the fire spread and blowing thick smoke directly at them.  The two companions retreated helplessly before the spreading blaze.  The meadow was burning in a long line in front of them, making it nearly impossible to go around the fire.

“Frodo, listen to me,” Aragorn said urgently.  “I think something lured you out here.  There’s no safety on this side of the fire; we have to get back to camp.”

Frodo nodded, looking about in confusion.  Of course it couldn’t have been Gandalf.  What had he been thinking?  The smoke was already reaching them.  It had all happened so fast neither could quite believe it.

“Get on my back and hang on,” Aragorn continued urgently.”  “I’m going to run through this as fast as I can.  Frodo... if I fall or can’t run for any reason, get up and go.  Understand?  Run back to the river.”

“Leave you?  But...” Frodo was staring at him, his eyes wide.

“Promise me, Frodo.  Something strange is going on.  If anything happens to me, keep going.  Promise.”

“Aragorn,” Frodo whispered, “nothing will happen to you.”

Aragorn knelt, and gave Frodo a quick hug.  He pulled Frodo’s hood up and around his face to protect him, then pulled his own hood up.  “Hop on.”  Frodo got on his back, his arms around the Ranger’s neck.

Aragorn stood up.  “When I say so, take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can.  Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Take a deep breath, now!”

Aragorn plunged into the thick smoke.  He had planned to run as quickly as he could, but within a few feet realized he couldn’t see where he was going.  With his left hand he pressed an edge of his cloak up to his face to help keep out the smoke, and he groped in front of him with his right hand, unable to see more than a few feet ahead.  This is no ordinary fire, he thought.  He heard Frodo starting to cough, and tried to go faster.  It was almost as if something was slowing him down, keeping him from getting Frodo to safety.  He fought his way forward with all his strength.

Frodo felt heat all around him, and kept his eyes tightly shut.  When he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he took a deep gasp of smoke-filled air and started coughing.  He tried to focus on holding on, holding on tight.  He felt Aragorn stumble and almost fall, before righting himself and continuing on.

Suddenly, to his horror, Frodo saw the fiery letters from the Ring blazing in front of his closed eyes.  He hadn’t seen the ancient lettering since that morning in the Shire, when Gandalf had thrown the Ring into his small fire in Bag End.  He felt an urge to run back to the meadow, to take the Ring and run.  It was almost overwhelming.  No, he thought desperately, leave me alone.  He shook his head and moaned, everything starting to spin around him.

Aragorn felt Frodo start to lose his grip on his tunic, and just in time he grabbed the small hands and held them tightly against him.  They had to be almost there... suddenly he felt hands reach out from in front of him and grab his cloak.  He was pulled forward.  The air grew cool and clear once again, and he stumbled to his knees into Legolas’ arms at the top of the same slope Frodo had first dashed up.  Somebody pulled Frodo off him and he felt the cold wind in his face.  A water bottle was held to his mouth.

With his eyes still tightly closed, Frodo felt the cool air surround him as Aragorn sank to the ground.  Someone grabbed him.  Confused by the vision of the Ring still before him, he fought to get away.

“You can’t have it!” he yelled.

“Hold him, Gimli.  Frodo, it is I, Legolas.  You are safe.”  Frodo felt cool hands pressed to his face and tried to focus on the soft voice.  “You are safe, Frodo.  Do not fight.  Open your eyes.”

The vision of the Ring slowly faded and disappeared.  Frodo opened his eyes and looked around, coughing.  He was on the ground, being supported by Gimli.  Legolas, kneeling in front of him, pressed a water bottle to his mouth.  The icy water soothed his throat before a fresh bout of coughing shook his small body.

“Easy, Frodo.”  Aragorn murmured from where he sat next to the hobbit.  “Drink more, that’s it.  Don’t try to talk.”

Frodo suddenly felt panic welling up again.  “I won’t listen!  You can’t have it!”  He looked around wildly, then sagged against Gimli.  “So tired,” he whispered, his eyelids fluttering closed.  “What’s happening?”

Aragorn turned to the Elf.  “Frodo is in danger; we have to get him away from here.”  At that moment, the first cold, wet drops of rain began to fall.  Without wasting any time on questions, Legolas pulled Frodo into his arms and quickly carried him down the slope.  Aragorn followed slowly, his hand on Gimli’s shoulder for support.  He felt exhausted, drained of energy as no Ranger should be.  Why?

** TBC **

Amy:  You describe Aragorn’s little speech so well – “Rules for a Fellowship on a Dangerous Quest”.  Love it.

Andrea:  Gandalf talked about the Ring’s effect on Bilbo’s youthful appearance and long life at the Council of Elrond, but how intriguing to wonder how Bilbo took the news... and whether he ever gave it much thought.

Anso the Hobbit:  Oh, I hope you do get back to your own River story!  Frodo should never be left for long without comfort.

Armariel:  I do love filling in the Professor’s story “gaps”.  How lovely of him to leave them for us!

Baggins Babe:  I never thought about ‘jet lag’ as a way of describing the Lorien-outside world transition, but it definitely fits.

Breon Briarwood:  I just can’t imagine Frodo without his Sam.  Just can’t.  *roots through your popcorn bucket for the pieces without too much butter on them*

cpsings4him:  Hobbits never cease to amaze those around them -- “growth” while still remaining “hobbity” is definitely a theme of this story!

Cuthalion:  I enjoy exploring the unique characteristics of each of the hobbits.  Sam was especially challenging in this story, for some reason.  I’m so happy his “heartwarming” qualities are coming through.

Dreamflower:  I hope you continue to find this tale intriguing!

French Pony:  Thank you for your lovely words.  Most definitely, a continuing challenge for “Fellowship” stories is making sure no one is overlooked, and that they all come across as unique individuals.

GamgeeFest:  Thank you very much.  I’m happy you’re enjoying this already!

girlofring:  I’m enjoying re-visiting (and, to an extent, re-writing) this story.  Thank you very much for coming along on the journey.

Grey Wonderer:  The Ring’s effect on mortals is fascinating, isn’t it?  We never really go to see what Its effect would be on Elves, since an Elf never bore the One Ring.

harrowcat:   Eeee, being licked to death!  What a way to go.  *grins*  (This willl be a much smoother and more polished version of this story than the one archived elsewhere... as I slowly comb all the three-year-old tangles out of it.)

Larner:  Story titles are very difficult for me to come up with, but this one seems especially appropriate.  There will be more about the “dragon” in future chapters.

lbilover:  I thought a lot about how differently the way time passes in Lothlorien, especially for the story “Sing Me Home”.  Professor Tolkien certainly came up with some fascinating concepts.

lindahoyland:  Thank you so much, Linda.  There will be a lot of Aragorn-hobbit moments in this story.

Lindelea:  Yes, PippinHealing is on its way!  I wrote this story the same year as “Unlikely Comfort”, and combining Frodo- and Pippin-healing seems to have been my theme for 2002... and beyond...

Pearl Took:  I agree, Pearl – getting older (especially in such lovely company) is certainly more agreeable than the alternative (!), and we need to be as appreciative of our lives as we can, for as long as we can.

SlightlyTookish:  Thank you so much!  And I suspect you’re really going to enjoy the Pippin h/c to come.  :D

TheHobbitWaffle:  Thank you for coming along on this journey... again!

Tigger:  There’s something I find so fascinating about that hat of Gandalf’s.  Wherever did he get it, and why even wear it?  It’s such a comical garment.