Chapter 19 - Moonlight

There was a full moon that night. But the figure who threaded his way through the ancient trees at the edge of the forest border was careful to avoid the silver light. The hooded cloak shaded him from unwelcome eyes, its deep brown hue blending with the undergrowth. The oppressive nature of the forest made the stranger feel uneasy and more than anything, unwelcome.

His own home, Rhosgobel, was situated close to another forest, in some ways even more deadly than this. But Mirkwood's evil was not veiled such as this place, the evil creatures that dwelt in Mirkwood's southern regions were clear and obvious. Visitors could prepare themselves for what they knew dwelt there. Fangorn was different. There was no animals to be seen, and yet he felt as though he was being watched. What disturbed him most was the lack of birds. The forest canopy was so thick and dark he could not imagine any creature surviving without the sun. The plant life, all except the tremendous trunks that stretched up to the deep green leaves seemed to be smothered. There was no wind, not even the smallest breeze could penetrate the thick, stuffy air.

He was not a traveller, and when he did journey it was only in the upmost need. However much he disliked leaving his home, the guilt and responsibility of his current task had forced the journey upon him. Though not directly involved with the events, he knew he held some responsibility to put them right again. And if his mission took him to Fangorn, where he was separated from the birds and beasts he loved most, he would hold firm until his task was completed, or he failed in the attempt.

He raised his brown eyes to the way ahead, sharpening his senses as he ventured further into the forest. He was weary and desperately in need of sleep, but he was nearing the end of his journey, and could not let fatigue endanger his safety now. He had left his home on the morning 4 days ago, and walked only when the sun was below the horizon. Sleeping during the daylight hours did not agree with him and he had slept badly.

But if he could find what he was looking for, his journey would be worth the loss of sleep.

There was a small glade ahead, bathed in the moonlight that the oppressive canopy had dimmed everywhere else. In the glade, the trees were younger than all the rest he had seen, and their leaves lighter, letting in the bright glow of the moon. He felt strangely drawn to the silent place, though he was weary as well, for he knew well that seeming safe, and being safe, were often two very different things.

He moved cautiously, keeping in the shadows around the edge of the clearing. Living near Mirkwood, and watching as growing darkness of Dol Guldur spread across the whole of the forest had made him suspicious.

He suddenly realised the wood was not as silent as it had been before he entered. There was strange whispers and a creaking and groaning like the boughs of trees being moved after years without wind. He turned slowly, scanning the area for what had caused the disturbance. At first he could see nothing, though the shadows on the left of the clearing seemed darker than before. He took a few steps forward, hoping he might have at last found what he sought.

There was an old tree among the shadows, with limbs and boughs thinner than others he had seen. Its leaves moved slowly, though there was no wind. A great wave of fear swept over him as the tree seemed to grow darker, clouded in shadow. And then it was gone. The whole tree was simply gone. The spot where it had grown before was empty, teasing him as though the lithe trunk he had seen with his own eyes had never existed.

The hissing began again, and this time the sound seemed to contain words. He was not sure whether it was his knowledge of plant lore and experience that gave him an insight into the words of the trees, but he could distinguish the individual words.

"Not an Orc, not an Elf . . . then what is it? In our forest, our forest . . ." He took a step backwards, away from the hissing voice. His back suddenly collided with the bark of a tree and he spun around, knowing that there had been no tree there before. It was the dark tree, and somehow it had moved so quickly he had not seen it come behind him. It was still wrapped in shadows and its leaves moved eerily in the still air.

He could feel the malice and hate radiating from the creature, something had happened to make it approach him, and even though he did not know what the creature may be, he knew he was in danger.

Before he could move away, he felt of of the creature's roots close about his ankle, and even as he tried to free it, a thin branch curled about his arm. The tree-creature moved swiftly, but the shadow around it disguised its movements so it seemed not to be changing at all. He struggled with the hold on his arm, and tried desperately to free himself. His staff was wrenched from his hand before he could put it to any use, and more branches stretched out with unbelievable speed. A thick branch snaked around his chest and began crushing him.

He had no idea why the tree wanted to kill him, and even if he had wanted to plead with it to stop, the grip around his body was so tight even breathing was near to impossible.

His vision blurred, and he gasped for air. He felt himself begin to slip away, and directed his last thoughts to his cousin, 'I am sorry, Gandalf. I have failed you.'

Suddenly the hold on his body was gone and he slipped to the forest floor. A great booming voice filled the clearing, and broke into his spinning thoughts.

"Hoom!" The voice of thunder shook the very ground he lay upon, but he did not even have the strength to raise his head and see the creature that had almost killed him slink back into the forest in its shadowy form.

"Now, what have we here?" the loud voice rumbled, and he thought perhaps this was it. He had found what he had been searching for. He dragged himself to his feet, brushing the dry leaves from his brown cloak. He looked up at the towering tree-like figure and lowered his head in a bow.

"Fangorn, it is an honour." he was breathless, but determined to give the ancient creature the respect it deserved. "I have come to your mighty forest to ask for the aid of you and your Ents. I come in my cousin's place, for I feel he would ask you for this were he here. I am Radagast the Brown."

---

Sam Gamgee was no fool. He knew something was up. Ever since they had woken for breakfast there had been a tenseness in the air that made the whole business of companionship uncomfortable. No one was speaking. Gimli had made a half-hearted attempt to start a discussion on the subject of rock floors being a benefit to your home, but finding no one else eager to reply, or argue with, he trailed off and started grumbling. Even Merry and Pippin had been remarkably subdued. The darkness of Moria was taking its toll upon everyone and even the two voracious Hobbits had felt the oppressive stillness.

But it was Frodo Sam was most worried about. His master sat against the far wall, where he had been ever since Sam had woken. Strider had walked up to him earlier and Sam suspected the ranger's words had not been comforting. Strider had drawn away with a stern face and slightly slumped shoulders. Frodo's face had been white and his eyes wide, staring but Sam without seeing.

'It wouldn't be right to force Mr Frodo to tell me," Sam said to himself. 'The master will tell me in time, and if not, he'll have a good reason for doing so.' But Sam's resolution held less than a minute as another wave of doubt and fear washed over him.

'Surely he would have told me if he was ill,' Sam glanced over at Frodo who was picking away at the meagre rations they had shared.

Like Frodo, Sam could not make himself eat, he knew he would need the energy once Aragorn's decision was made and they were off, but his worry left him with no appetite.

Something had happened during the night, he was sure of it. 'Drat me twice over for not keeping a closer eye on him," Sam chastised himself. 'Still, there's no use cryin' over spilt milk. But what's to be done about it? That's the question. I could try talking to him, but when Mr Frodo is intent on keeping something hidden, I'll soon as bet it will stay that way.'

He sat there musing about it, fiddling with the straps on his pack. He sniffed, recognising the foul smell that had been lingering around the anti chamber all the time they had been there. How he wished they could move on! Surely Strider had some idea of the way. Once they all got moving he felt sure everyone's spirits would rise once more. Why didn't Aragorn decide quickly? Perhaps he was troubled by the same thing as Frodo, the ranger's face had looked rather drawn and pale of late. Sam felt a small pang of jealousy, why should Aragorn share in Frodo's secret and not himself?

He dismissed the thought quickly. He looked over to where Strider was standing at the entrance to the three passages. His brow was creased with worry and his dirt-smudged face set in a hard expression. From what Sam had seen, Frodo had not revealed any more to the ranger than he had to himself.

He narrowed his eyes and looked around. Gimli? Surely not, the Dwarf was not acting any different to usual, if he knew something, he was hiding it well. He watched as the Dwarf set down his plate and wandered back to the main group, apparently restless.

He prodded Faramir in the back, "What are you moping about?" Gimli sounded exasperated, "when you have the splendour of the Dwarf halls about you. Though they are dark now, I thought you at least would be interested in our architecture. You've often asked me about it."

"Not now, Gimli," Faramir replied without looking up.

Gimli laid a heavy hand on the man's shoulder and Sam could see the glint of interest in his eyes.

"What ails you, friend? Perhaps someone will explain to me why everyone is so dull."

Faramir shrugged his hand off unceremoniously. "Please, Gimli. I need to think."

Sam looked up, surprised, but Faramir had not once glanced at Frodo so he did not suppose Frodo's problems originated there.

Sam remained confused. What could have happened during the night to make Frodo so frightened and pale, and Faramir standoffish? He cursed himself again for not staying awake. 'But I was bone tired last night, ready to drop. Even I can't stave off sleep like an Elf.'

An Elf. now that was an idea. His eyes searched rapidly, scanning the area. It never ceased to amaze Sam the way Elves could just blend into the background if they did not want to be seen. At last he saw him - Legolas was standing against the wall not far away from Frodo, and from what Sam could see, the Elf had his eyes fixed on his Master.

Disturbing thoughts coursed through Sam's mind. Could the Elf be the cause of Mr Frodo's distress? Was the ring involved? Ah, what happened during the night that could have made the Fellowship so distant towards each other? Sam wondered whether Elves had any desire for the ring of power. Surely not as master Elrond himself ordered it to be taken to the fire.

Sam fixed a hard gaze on Legolas, determined to put a stop to what ever was going on behind his back. Could someone so fair be evil inside? After all, the ring was beautiful and that was why it was so deadly. But looking upon the Elf's face, Sam could not make himself think there was any evil intent. Legolas' gaze clearly spoke of pity and compassion, but there was something else.

Sam considered himself a decent judge of character, and even the incident at the Prancing Pony with Strider had not damaged his faith in his own judgement. There was something else in the Elf's gaze behind the kindness, something hidden and yet as strong as the other qualities. Guilt.

Enough was enough. He was going to find out what had happened even if he hurt Frodo's faith in him in the process. It was hard for Sam to believe any Elf could do wrong after meeting Elrond, Glorfindell and the rest, Legolas himself included until suspicion cast its shadows. But Bilbo's stories about the Elves of Mirkwood came suddenly back into his mind. The Elvenking, Legolas' own father's imprisonment of the thirteen Dwarves, and he made up his mind that he would get to the bottom of it.