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Quest  by cathleen

Chapter Five

 

“Obsession”

 

The shadows persisted. He held his breath in anticipation of the voices; they were like music, though harsh and discordant. Fear. Fear more profound than anything he could ever describe in words. It gripped him, squeezed his heart as he in turn crushed the Ring between his fingers, feeling its iciness, its hardness, its unrelenting presence. His heart beat in his throat, its rhythm increasing until he could feel the pounding in both sides of his head. Stunned, he put forth his hand and released the Ring, watching it descend into a great dark abyss. Its golden glow retreated from view like the tail of a kite being summoned into the clouds overhead. Fascinated, his heart swelled with the joy of being free of his burden. The elation was short-lived.  An oppressive silence rushed in to fill the space created by his loss, leaving him deaf. He pressed his hands to either side of his head as he was forced to his knees by the weight of the misery that threatened to crush him. Heaviness in his hand demanded his attention. He extended his fingers and stared at the Ring that once again rested in his palm, an iridescent light emanating from its center. It had returned to him, unbidden. He eyed it with renewed interest, fascinated by the changing colours. And then the voices came and sang their song of hope, and light. He stared at the Ring and was startled to find it had transformed into a small, glowing stone of the purest blue. . .Frodo smiled.

 

Darkness. . .and light. A never-ending absurdity. A crescendo of singing voices calling out his name. He raised his head and listened. They no longer mocked him. He smiled his relief and drifted towards the music. Answering the voices, he drew closer to them. The stones pulsated with warmth. He raised his hand and stared, mesmerized by the constant swirl of colour. He embraced numberless shades of blue in his fingers!  The colours spoke to him. Fascinated, he raised the stones to his ear and listened. He heard them, tasted them. Smelled them. The voices of colour swirled and he was caught up in a great turquoise cloud. He floated along reveling in its warmth, its nurturing touch. Abruptly, a lone voice demanded his attention. Listening closely he become aware of beseeching, nay wailing, from afar. He whirled, distraught. One was missing! One called to him fiercely, commanding him to reunite it with the others. He ached with the loneliness. The voices grew more insistent. He moved slowly, woodenly, coming to the edge of an endless abyss. He stared into the blackness yearning to move back into the light, but was held there against his will. Ice caressed his palm, like the touch of death from some distant land. Reluctantly he opened his hand to reveal. . .The One Ring. Pippin moaned in fear.

 

 

The Ring called out to him, demanding he retrieve it, beckoning him down into the void. He stared at the bright stone resting on his palm, his eyes flickered towards the crevasse, but he turned his back, determined to walk away. The voice rose to a threatening howl. He shuddered, pressing his hands to his ears once more. The effort was wasted. The Ring laid claim to his very soul. Wearily he reversed direction and placed one foot in front of the other, coming at last to the edge of the bottomless pit. One more step and he no longer felt the solid ground beneath his feet. He plunged endlessly, mouth stretched open in a silent scream. . .

Frodo shot to a sitting position in one quick movement, struggling to catch his breath and barely preventing the shout of despair from bursting forth.  He struggled to orient himself to his surroundings and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with a shaky hand. The pounding of his heart slowed and he took a deep breath, shuddering in the darkness for several long moments.  Something prickled at the edge of his awareness, tickling uncomfortably at his senses. Something was amiss. Turning slowly he blanched when he caught sight of his young cousin sitting nearby, staring straight at him and yet unseeing. Frodo abruptly released the breath and then drew another. Carefully, he leaned over and whispered.

“Pippin.”

There was no response.

Frodo tried again, more insistently. “Pippin!”

Pippin did not move. It was difficult to tell that he was even breathing.

Alarmed, Frodo leaned closer intending to shake his cousin. The leather tie attaching him to Sam’s ankle halted him, and he cursed. He reached down to untie it and immediately wakened his ever-present guardian.

Sam stirred and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. “What’s wrong, Mr Frodo?”

“Sam, look at Pippin.” Frodo nodded in his cousin’s direction as he continued struggling with the knot.

Sam leaned over and studied Pippin closely. The young hobbit sat rigidly straight, both hands clutched into tight fists. He turned back quickly and helped Frodo untie the lacing that connected them. “Do you think he’s all right?”

Free at last, Frodo crawled to him and waved a hand in front of the glazed eyes. Pippin did not respond. Merry stirred at the commotion and raised himself up on one elbow.  He watched Sam and Frodo in confusion for a moment and then saw Pippin.

“What’s going on?” Merry threw back his blanket, alarmed.

His whisper was enough to attract the attention of the elf standing guard at the entrance to the cave. Legolas hurried over to them, his concern apparent.

“What’s the matter with Pippin?” Merry was up now. 

Legolas knelt next to the hobbit and also waved a hand in front of the staring eyes. “He remains fast asleep.” He twisted around to look at the others. “Perhaps he is dreaming.”

Frodo shuddered at the mention of dreams, recalling what had awakened him.  “Yes,” he agreed. “That may be so.”

“What should we do? Should we wake Strider or Gandalf?”

Legolas studied Pippin’s unmoving form for another moment.  “No Sam,” he said.  “No. I believe he is well. Let us help him lay down again and see what happens.” 

The Elf gently moved Pippin back down in the bed of blankets and Merry covered him. His eyes slowly closed of their own accord and his whole body relaxed. They breathed a sigh of relief. Merry lay down beside him and placed a protective arm around his younger cousin.

 “I’ll watch over him, Legolas.” 

“All right. I will be nearby if you need me.”

Frodo nodded, comforted by this knowledge and sank down next to Sam and Pippin.  Sam hastened to replace the leg binding. It was a long while before they slumbered once more, even longer for Merry who lay awake thinking hard.  Sighing, he moved about restlessly trying to settle into a more comfortable position. His arm had fallen asleep and he raised it and shook the feeling back into it. Once again he struggled to find a more accommodating angle and still keep a hand on Pippin. He moved carefully for the third time, trying not to disturb the others.

“Ouch!” Merry swore softly and sat up. He reached underneath his leg and pulled out a small stone caught in the blanket between them. He eyed it curiously for a moment and was about to toss it away when he paused to take a closer look at it. He smiled, intrigued by its brilliant color. He’d never seen a stone so blue! Merry deposited the pebble into his pocket. Pippin would be fascinated by it. He’d give it to him in the morning and perhaps it would help to lighten his mood. He nestled into his cousin’s side once more and was able to drift off at last.

Legolas paced soundlessly about the perimeter of the campsite. The little ones had quieted at last and a peaceful calm had settled over the group. He puzzled over Pippin’s actions. Something was amiss. He could feel it.  Shadows flickered in his mind, gray ominous warnings like harbingers of danger yet to come. Could it have anything to do with the voices? He was certain Pippin continued to hear them.  He must reveal what he knew to Aragorn. Although it really was precious little, it might shed some light on what was troubling Pippin and perhaps adding to his unpredictable behaviour. He would try once more to convince the hobbit to reveal the mysterious voices to the rest of the Company. If he continued to refuse Legolas would be forced to act regardless of Pippin’s feelings.

Legolas was startled from his musing by a soft noise. He spun around and automatically reached for his knife, studying the gloom. He saw nothing out of order. Slowly he lowered his arm. All remained quiet, tranquil. The gentle snoring of several of their party brought a brief smile to his lips. Even Gimli was quiet. That thought almost made him chuckle aloud. Legolas resumed his pacing. His thoughts turned again to the events of the past few days. He was lost in deep thought when he heard a soft rustling nearby and felt a gentle touch brush his cheek. He whirled, instantly guarded, and raised his weapon again. . .but saw nothing. The Elf froze for several long moments, his keen ears straining into the darkness that surrounded him. The glowing embers of their low campfire provided a small amount of light. He beheld only the sleeping forms of his companions littering the cavern floor.

Legolas slowly let out the breath he had been holding, consciously attempting to still his pounding heart. Just as he was becoming convinced he had imagined everything he heard a delicate musical voice whisper his name.

Legolasss…

The Elf hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then reacted like the well-trained warrior he was. Grabbing a torch he alerted the others with a shout as he fled past the slumbering forms toward the darkness. 

The Ranger was on his feet rapidly, instantly awake, and the rest of the company soon followed. Confusion reigned amongst the startled hobbits as they leaped to their feet, small swords at the ready. Gimli was already close on the heels of the wizard as they sprinted after the Elf’s lead.

“What was that all about?” Aragorn sank onto a boulder and lowered his sword to the ground beside him.  He looked askance at Legolas. They had searched the immediate area and then some, and found nothing.

Legolas stopped his restless pacing and turned questioning eyes in Aragorn’s direction. “I heard a voice.  It said my name.” Legolas’s quiet tone held a note of hesitation.

“What?” Aragorn glanced quickly at Gandalf before turning back to stare at the elf.

“Well, it does not appear anyone has joined us! Perhaps you nodded off for a while?”

Legolas frowned. “I did not ‘nod off’.” He looked at each of his companions in turn. “And I did not imagine anything. I heard a distinct voice speak my name, and I felt the soft brush of fingers against my face.”

Frodo shivered. He drew his knees up to his chin and encircled his legs with both arms, drawing himself into a tight hug. He placed his chin on his knees and his gaze wandered around the group. Pippin had pulled himself into an identical pose but was rocking to and fro, the way he always did when frightened or anxious. He did not look at anyone. Instead, he stared straight ahead.

“Well, what do you think it was then?” Boromir wrinkled his brow.

“What exactly did it sound like?” Aragorn leaned forward.  “Try to remember the voice,” he urged.

“I do not have any difficulty in recalling it.” The elf spoke in his customary soft tone. “Indeed, it is clear in my memory. It was very tranquil, harmonious,” he said softly.  “Musical somehow. The voice sang my name. I could not tell whether it was female or male. It seemed to be both…and yet neither.” He sighed and looked back at Aragorn. “The voice did not frighten me. However, the gentle caress to my face was unnerving.”

Gimli snorted.  “The Elf has a gift for understatement!”

Legolas chose to ignore Gimli.  Instead, he focused on Pippin, who had lifted his head to listen. He caught Pippin’s eye and raised an eyebrow in question.  Pippin blanched and looked away guiltily. The brief exchange did not go unnoticed by the keen-eyed wizard. Legolas refused to let the hobbit ignore him.

“What do you think, Pippin?” 

“What?” Pippin’s voice was muffled as he dipped his head lower still between his knees.

“About my experience,” Legolas persisted.

Everyone except Gandalf observed this exchange in bewilderment.

“I don’t have an opinion.”

“Well, that is a first,” Boromir chuckled. “Come Pippin. Surely you have something to say.”

The hobbit was silent. Merry crept close and put an arm around his shaking cousin. Pippin flinched. Merry glanced at Frodo, disquiet flickering in his eyes. 

Aragorn spoke quietly. “It may be the sorcery of Saruman. He seeks to frighten us.” The Ranger glanced around the group. “I recommend we do our best to put this aside for now and resume our rest. It will not help to become overtired and further lower our defenses.”

“I agree. No harm has come to anyone. Perhaps some more sleep is just what we need.”  Boromir stood and reached for his weapon. “I will volunteer to take the next watch.”

“Nay, mine is not yet over and Aragorn is next. I will finish my watch.”  Legolas headed for the front of the cave.

Boromir watched him go. “I did not mean any disrespect.”

“Of course not,” Aragorn murmured. He raised his voice, “Legolas, perhaps you should take some rest now. I will start my watch.”

Legolas shook his head and turned away.

“Well, I am wide awake now. I would just as soon take the watch myself,” Gimli grumbled.

“I have another hour and I will see it through. But I thank you for the offer.”

Aragorn said, “It would seem the matter has been decided. Let us keep to our original schedule.”

“Come,” Frodo motioned to his fellow hobbits.

They returned to their bedding. Pippin hurriedly pulled his head beneath the covers and rolled into a tight ball.  Merry watched him for a moment, sympathy warring with a sudden urge to laugh. The action reminded him of a turtle retreating from unfriendly eyes. He lay down and draped an arm across his cousin in an attempt to comfort him. Pippin did not shrug him off. 

Sam reattached the leather tie to his foot, handing the other end to Frodo.  “It seems to me they all want to stay up, don’t it now?”

Frodo nodded.  “I do not know how well any of us are going to sleep.”  He lay back.  “Although I do seem to be resting better than I was. And it’s harder to wake up.”  Frodo considered this revelation. Hmm, it was odd, he thought.  Just why am I sleeping better tonight, not to mention more heavily than before?  I was so groggy when I woke up.  It reminds me of the time Bilbo gave me the soporific when I had that long bout of insomnia many years ago, right after I came to live with him.  Frodo drifted off at last, still mulling it over.

Pippin laid thinking over what had happened, certain Legolas wasn’t going to keep his secret much longer. Was the Elf hearing the same voices?  Legolas’s description made it seem likely. What was he going to do? Oh, the dreams! The dreams were growing more vivid and frightening. He was beginning to feel increasingly out of control and he hated it. Pippin fretted over his situation. Should I tell Aragorn or Gandalf?  Merry?  Frodo?  I don’t want to tell anyone! 

Pippin pulled his head further beneath the blankets. His hand snaked into his pocket to withdraw the stones, intending to comfort himself with their warmth. He bolted upright. Two were missing! His dream came flooding back and Pippin felt his fear and anger rising to a frenzied level. He resisted the urge to scream out his frustration by stuffing his knuckles into his mouth and biting down. He winced, tasting blood.

“What’s wrong Pip?” Merry struggled to sit up and Sam and Frodo turned sleepily to look at him.

Pippin sat frozen in place, his mind racing. He knew he couldn’t explain what he was upset about.  He certainly wouldn’t be allowed to go roaming about in the night looking for his lost treasure. He took a deep breath as he removed his hand and stuck it back under the blanket still clutching the remaining stones.  I’ll have to slip away and look for them tomorrow.  

“Nothing,” he muttered.  “Just having trouble getting comfortable.” He chuckled, although there was absolutely no humor in the sound.  “Go back to sleep.”  Pippin flopped over on his stomach after storing the two remaining pebbles back in his pocket, unaware that Merry was staring at his back trying to piece together more of the riddle of his younger cousin’s behaviour.

Merry was awake for a long time thinking over the events of the last several days.  He suddenly remembered the little blue stone he had retrieved from their blankets that morning.  Feeling in his pocket he carefully withdrew the tiny treasure and held it up to the firelight. Curious.  It was warm.  Warmer than his pocket should have caused it to be. It was a brilliant sapphire that nestled in the palm of his hand now, not a simple pebble. The color seemed to intensify the longer he stared at it. The blue became more spectacular and appeared to pulsate with life. Merry grinned in delight. Maybe he wouldn’t give it to Pippin. Not just yet anyway. He felt strangely drawn to it. He fell asleep with it cradled close to his ear, marveling at the delicate tones emanating from it, captivated.

Morning dawned bleak and gray and very cold. The wind had picked up during the night and the front of the cave was filled with snow.  As they gazed out into the morning gloom it was obvious that the storm had developed into a true blizzard.  A great curtain of white blanketed the landscape and it was impossible to see further than a few inches ahead.

“Well, it appears we’re going nowhere, isn’t that so Strider?”

The Company stood at what little remained of an opening to their shelter.  The snow that had fallen during the night buried the entrance so only a small access to the outside world remained. Frodo shivered, drawing his cloak more tightly to his throat. He didn’t know if the chill he felt was a result of the weather or of the dark, cold feelings he harbored in his soul. Feelings that grew stronger with every passing day. His sense of disquiet had grown so that he sometimes felt as if it were shouting at him aloud. They had been confined here only one night and already his restlessness was nearly overwhelming.

“Quite right, Sam,” Aragorn laid his hand on Sam’s shoulder.

The Company gathered around the fire to share the first meal of the day and Aragorn began to make plans. “Gandalf and I have discussed what we are going to do next, so when we finish eating we had best put our time to good use. I think the cave pool is a good place to begin. We’ll form an exploration party. Some of us will gather food and water. And several of us should go deeper for a more thorough investigation. Gandalf has offered to remain here and keep the fire going. Sam, perhaps you could help with that and see to Bill as well. He will require some exercise. Do the best you can.”

“Aye Strider, I know.  I’ll take care of Bill and help Gandalf too.”

Aragorn looked at the other hobbits. “You three may try to catch fish and fill water containers. Boromir, will you help with that?”

“Of course!”  He grinned and placed an arm around Pippin’s shoulders and squeezed. “Well, Pip.  Together again, are we?”

Pippin smiled hesitantly up at the man. Boromir had a kind way about him and Pippin always felt secure when he was near. He rummaged in his pocket for the precious stones. He frowned, recalling that two had gone missing.  His dreams came flooding back to fill his memory with deafening clarity.  How could he have lost two of them?

“What’s wrong?” Boromir noticed the change of expression immediately.

Pippin recovered quickly. “Nothing!” 

“Legolas, Gimli, and I will each explore different areas of the caverns. If we are confined here for awhile it will be important to know our surroundings.” Aragorn regarded the entire company sternly.  “My friends, I realise you are already aware of this but I believe it bears repeating. We cannot be too cautious. There will likely be many dead end passages and openings in unexpected places. We may also encounter animals, and possibly bats and large insects. Perhaps even other and more unexpected things. Be certain to mark your way wherever you may venture while we are here. It would be frightfully easy to get lost in this place. Go slowly and watch your footing at all times. Shall we start now?”

The Ranger lifted his torch high and began leading the way down the narrow path behind their campsite and into the next section of the cave. When they reached the water Boromir eased across piles of loose rock with his charges, while Gimli turned in the opposite direction.

Legolas gestured to Aragorn and the pair headed away from the others in order to speak privately before going any farther.

“I do not know if this is important but something rather curious happened with Pippin last night while I stood watch.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question. “Something else happened? I thought the one incident was quite strange enough.”

“This occurred before I heard the voice. Frodo woke and found Pippin sitting up nearby. His eyes were wide open and staring at him, yet he appeared to be fast asleep. Frodo offered that he had been dreaming and was awakened by a nightmare. He was quite taken aback to find his cousin in such a state. ”

“Hmm, I do not wonder.” Aragorn rubbed his chin thoughtfully  “That is odd.” He shook his head. “Well, at least Frodo did not go wandering. The herb I placed in his meal must have calmed him, as I had hoped. But we’ll need to keep a close watch on Pippin. At the very least, his attitude seems a bit better this morning.” Aragorn turned to head in the opposite direction. “Let us meet here in one hour.”

Legolas picked his way down the narrow corridor, carefully inspecting his surroundings.  While he continued to dislike enclosed spaces, the breathtaking beauty of the cavern never ceased to astound him. Though they had explored little of this place thus far what he had seen was extraordinary. Brilliant colours lighted several of the walls, evidence of former running water and mineral deposits of every description. Huge stalagmites rose from the floor, their forms striking queer poses in the eerie flickering light of his torch. Some joined with the equally large stalactites descending from the ceiling. They looked like great icicles, ones that would never melt. Icicles that had taken many thousands of years to form, and still they grew.

Legolas reflected as he explored, his thoughts turning back to the unusual behaviour of the youngest hobbit. Conversation centering around the halflings’ families usually brought smiles and laughs and pleasant reminiscing. What was it about Pippin’s aunt that had upset him so? Pippin had admitted to hearing something. Admitted it and then begged him to keep quiet. Now it seemed he was hearing it too.

Legolas puzzled over his encounter with Pippin by the water, the day he had fled into the woods. Pippin had seemed to be listening carefully to something no one else heard. He recalled the way Pippin had carefully placed his hands in the water as if seeking to find. . .what? He wondered if the voices Pippin heard had anything to do with his angry outbursts and odd behaviours.  When he had suggested just that yesterday Pippin had become panic-stricken. But something else nudged at the back of Legolas’s thoughts, begging to be known. Strangely enough, the memory eluded him.

Intuitive bonds between kin were a truth in his own culture. Legolas grew more convinced that whatever was happening had something to do with the Ringbearer and his burden. Perhaps Pippin’s youth played a part, however, Legolas did not feel it was of much significance. It was obvious that he was unusually sensitive to the feelings of others. Was Pippin’s heart telling him to take the Ringbearer’s burden upon himself?

The Elf paused, holding the torch high in order to better illuminate the area around him. Having gone a fair distance down the passageway Legolas saw it was leading downward at a sharp slope. He began to step more cautiously, stopping quickly after kicking a loose stone and hearing it drop away into a deep hole along the path in front of him. Legolas held his light close to the floor and gasped when he realised how close he had come to stepping into it. By the stars! It was a moment before he could breathe comfortably again. The descent was angular and he saw now that it was not a sheer drop, but a severe one nevertheless. Leaning over, he attempted to see to the bottom. Only the darkness met his eyes and Legolas backed carefully away. He decided to return to the meeting place rather than attempting to explore any further. The near miss had unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

 

***

Boromir cheerfully took charge of his little party of halflings.  Handing out arrows to each of them he pointed at the water.  “All right, let us go fishing!”

They all scrambled down to the edge of the water and set about their task. It was not all that difficult to spear the cavefish and Sam was quick to catch on after watching Boromir.

Pippin appeared nervous, glancing around as if searching for a lost object.

Frodo wandered over to him, his curiosity aroused. “What are you up to?” He kept his tone casual.

Pippin started and turned around to eye him cautiously. “I’m not up to anything. What makes you ask?” He fidgeted with the arrow, turning it this way and that as he studied the ground. “Why do you always think I’m up to something?” 

Frodo decided not to push. He squatted down at the water’s edge and scanned the surface.  “I imagine there are plenty of fish to be had." 

Pippin did not respond. He was twisting the arrow even more anxiously now as he scanned the water’s edge. Frodo had seldom seen Pippin so distracted. He considered taking the arrow away from him lest he harm himself.

Merry had followed and stood hesitantly nearby, watching them. He pointed at Boromir who was already detaching several of the pale blind cavefish from his makeshift spear and stringing them together. “Looks like Boromir found a good spot.” 

Pippin was obviously ignoring him.  He turned his back and inched out into the stream, sullenly stabbing at the water with his arrow. Merry sighed.  Obviously Pippin was growing moody again.

Frodo drew him into a quick hug. “It’ll be all right.  He’ll get over it.”

“It’s not like Pip to hold a grudge.  I’m worried about him.” Merry watched as their cousin picked his way further out in the water. “He hasn’t mentioned what happened last night,” he mused. “Do you think he even remembers?”

Frodo watched as Pippin wandered further away. “I don’t know.”

“How long do you think we’re going to be trapped in this cave?” Merry glanced about uneasily. “I don’t like it.”

Frodo shrugged. “At the very least we’ll be here until the storm lets up. Come,” Frodo handed him an additional arrow and gestured for Merry to follow. “I don’t know how long we’ll be here but I do know one thing.”

Merry looked at him questioningly.

“The longer it takes, the harder it will be on all of us.” Frodo spoke quietly.  “We need to get moving. Being confined here only makes it harder. As for myself, I feel as though I’m ready to explode at times. Being here for any length of time is going to take all my will to handle.” He nodded at Pippin.  “And it only gives Pippin more time to stew over whatever is bothering him.  You know he’s never liked being cooped up.”

 

***

“Gandalf?” 

The wizard glanced up from the fire. He rested a hand on the pony’s back as he regarded Sam with a little smile. “Yes?”

“Do you think we’ll be stuck here for long?”

Gandalf moved to the cavern’s entrance and gazed out through the small opening before replying.  “That depends on a number of things.”

Sam eyed him, puzzled.  “Begging your pardon, but on what? Other than the weather of course.”

“Oh.  Time will tell, Samwise.”

Sam frowned at the cryptic answer and decided not to inquire any further.  He busied himself with grooming the pony, all the while mulling over the events of the last few days. He very much wished to discuss the experience Legolas had last night but wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

Gandalf settled by the fire with his pipe and watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. Something strange was about, that much was certain. He’d felt it first just before they’d begun the climb up the mountain.  Hmm. Yes, Pippin had been acting like he was trying to hide something that day they were collecting the wood. Literally? He’d wondered it then too. Did the lad actually have something in his possession that he didn’t want seen? Or had he been up to some other sort of mischief making? Either way did it have anything to do with what was happening now? 

The wizard frowned as he thought about the youngster’s moodiness and anger. While it was true Pippin was a highly-strung young hobbit, like many Took’s, he was never malicious or sullen. Yes, he was known to pout occasionally, only to be expected from one who had been the baby of his family. But he was normally of a sunny nature and very quick to recover when his feelings were hurt, and to forgive those that had hurt him. He was also quick to apologise when he knew he was in the wrong. Indeed, Pippin’s behaviour was puzzling and unlike him.

And Frodo. . .His mind wandered to Frodo’s nighttime activities. Samwise was noticeably upset with Frodo’s nocturnal adventures and that was to be expected. Nothing was unusual there. The voice Legolas had heard was truly bewildering and he thought this over at length. Legolas would not overreact, nor was he prone to allowing his imagination to run wild. Therefore, he had definitely heard something. Yet in searching they had found nothing. Gandalf considered ancient legends involving the hearing of voices and other soothsayers’ myths. Only one thought occurred to him, but no, it was too soon to even consider such a thing. He would think on it harder before musing in that direction.

The wizard sighed as he thought about Aragorn. Aragorn was locked in a battle of wills with Frodo, determined to make him see that he could not submit to the Ring or all would be lost. Gandalf did not think Frodo was submitting to the Ring. He had been accepted as Ringbearer because Gandalf believed, and continued to believe, that Frodo had the strength to resist its will. However, the manner of the Ring’s assaults seemed to be different now.

Frodo was angry about having his foot fixed to Sam’s on a nightly basis because he felt Aragorn did not understand. That had worked out well until he had begun untying the lash and wandering away until Aragorn had been forced to take action.  Last night he’d slipped a sleeping herb into Frodo’s evening meal. Deceitful yes, but it was a necessary precaution. The seriousness of the matter had come to a head when they had been forced to remain in this cavern. With a raging blizzard outside they simply could not take the chance that Frodo might wander out into it.

When exactly did everything start feeling so odd? He allowed his mind to travel back, carefully combing over the events of the past week one by one.  He recalled first noticing the oddness when Pippin had displayed the eagerness to get back to a much disliked chore. They were camped by a lake, collecting food and wood, and washing their clothing before beginning the long trek up the snow covered terrain. The lads had halted their work to get up to a bit of a game with Boromir. Gandalf smiled at the memory in spite of himself. He had started to join them in order to get them back on task and Pippin had hurried away from him. When he’d come upon Pippin and Merry in the woods a short while later Pippin was trying to appear innocent. He might have even fooled anyone who was not as familiar with Took’s. Gandalf puzzled over his memories. Both sleeves of the hobbit’s shirt had been wet, the right one drenched way up past his elbow, he recalled. He had been baffled about it at the time but had been distracted and thought no more of it. The hobbit had obviously been playing about in the water again when he’d just been admonished to get back to the business at hand. Just what would have made him dip his hands and arms into the freezing water? Perhaps he was reading too much into it. Gandalf’s thoughts wandered back to that day as he absently-mindedly refilled his pipe…

 

 





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