Live Journal FeedChapter 19: Ithilien
“I thought all the land around Mordor was supposed to be desolate,” Harry said. “Or doesn’t Sauron control these lands as well?” The air around them was fairly warm and dry, a welcome change from the cold and damp that had seemed to permeate both the Emyn Muil and the Dead Marshes. Plants were more abundant here than they had been in other places.
“Mahap it’s nice, but I still don’t like it,” Sam said. “It’s unnatural, it is – all this green but no sound of birds or the like. But I suppose I can find something for us to eat.”
“As I recall, Gondor holds some sway here, but Sauron’s reach is growing ever longer,” Frodo said as Sam wandered to the edge of the small, tree-enclosed area. The Hobbit was sitting in the sun with his back against a rock, eyes closed. His pale face was showing a little more color than it had in a while, at least, which was a good sign.
“You sure about this, Frodo? About letting Gollum lead us to who knows where?”
Frodo’s eyes flew open and he looked sharply at Harry. “If you have second thoughts, Elrond said that you needed to go no further than you wished.”
“That’s not what I was saying.”
“Then what was it?”
“Just…I’m not sure that it’s the best idea. I mean, I do see why you want to try and trust him, but I don’t think it’s going to change him.” A brief image of Severus Snape flashed across Harry’s mind as he said this. Harry’s lack of trust in Snape was small compared to how he felt about Gollum.
“You don’t trust my judgment?” Frodo demanded.
“No! I mean…I do, but…”
“But what? You doubt that I can handle the situation?”
That’s exactly it! You’ve been so sheltered in the Shire, you don’t know! Harry wanted to say this, but he refrained from doing so. Instead he repeated, “I just don’t want to trust him, that’s all.”
Frodo sighed. “He can change. He was something of a Hobbit once, you know. There is some seed of good in him.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean that you’ll be able to bring it out.”
“You need to trust me, Harry. I am trying to gain Sméagol’s trust – and in doing so, he gains mine. You could try being kind to him as well.”
“Look, as nice as you are to him, he can’t change.”
“I’m with Harry here,” Sam said as he approached. “Gollum isn’t going to get any better, Mr. Frodo.”
“You think so because you do not look for the good that come from him. Have you not noticed?” Frodo said stubbornly. “I try to be kind to him because I know how he feels and can guess how he thinks.”
“And you don’t think that I can guess, is that right? I’ve been through more than you have, Frodo, even though you are older than I am! I’ve dealt with more untrustworthy – ”
“Perhaps you know part of what I feel, Harry. The weight of the world is on my shoulders, so to speak. But you do not understand what carrying the Ring is like.”
Yes I do, Harry thought, though he held his tongue.
Frodo began fingering the chain absentmindedly as he continued to speak. “I was given this burden, and I will see the journey through. It is mine to carry – mine, my own!” The look in the Hobbit’s eyes had grown wild, almost animal.
Silence hung over the group for a few seconds before Sam whispered, “Don’t you know who you sound like, Mr. Frodo?”
Frodo’s hand traveled to where the Ring lay, and a glint of gold flashed through his fingers as he clasped it tightly. In the moments following that brief view of the Ring, Harry felt a voice in the back of his mind speaking – stronger this time than the last time he had heard it. Look how weak he really is, and you are armed with a sword and a wand – take it, save your friends, return to your time and repair all the damage Voldemort wrought…
It was like the Imperius Curse – the Ring was calling to him. He closed his eyes so that he could not see it. But it took every bit of his willpower to shove the voice to the very back of his mind, where he would be able to ignore it more easily. It was almost as bad as having Snape delve into his memories during Occlumency lessons.
When Harry opened his eyes again, Frodo’s expression had become sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Sam – and you, Harry. I know you are trying to protect me, and I do not know what made me speak thus.”
But you do, Harry thought. And we do too. But both he and Sam let Frodo continue talking.
“All I ask is that you allow me the chance to let the good come forth in Gollum. You may still be wary around him, you may not trust him, but at least try to be kinder to him. Agreed?”
Harry and Sam looked at each other briefly before nodding. “We’ll try, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said in a low voice. “But any funny business from him and…” He gestured in a manner that reminded Harry forcibly of Ron. He wondered where his best friend was right now and hoped that he was all right.
At that moment Gollum came prancing up with an expression of glee on his face and something furry dangling from his mouth. He deposited what he was carrying in Frodo’s lap and said excitedly, “Look! Look! See what Sméagol finds out in the treeses!”
Frodo grinned up at his companions as if to say, See, I told you! “Wonderful, Sméagol!”
“They are young and tender, and tasty!” Gollum said, picking one of the young rabbits up and twisting its neck. With that, he began gnawing at it, uncooked though it was. Frodo’s expression turned to one of disgust.
“Stop that!” Sam snapped, snatching the rabbit away from him. “You’ll make him sick if you carry on like that!”
Harry glanced at Frodo. The older Hobbit’s brows were furrowed. Sam avoided his gaze and continued to speak to Gollum.
“There’s a proper way to eat these, as every Hobbit knows. If you really want to help, go and find me some vegetables and herbs. Oh, and some taters would be nice.”
“Fat Hobbit is sso kind,” Gollum hissed. With that, he turned back to the trees and scurried off.
Sam averted his eyes as he placed the young rabbits carefully on the ground and began rummaging through his pack. He drew out a knife and a small wooden box that Harry had not seen before.
“Look, Mr. Frodo, I’ve been carrying this for a while. Just in case we ever needed a bit of it.” He tossed the little container to Frodo, who caught it with ease.
Harry glanced down as Frodo opened the box and revealed a white, crystalline substance. “Whatever is this, Sam?”
“It’s only a bit of salt. Just in case, you see. I was thinkin’…perhaps if we had some roast chicken…”
“Roast chicken?” Frodo said, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Sam!”
The other Hobbit shrugged his shoulders and busied himself with preparing the food.
“Don’t you think that the smoke from our fire will be a beacon for any enemy?” Harry asked.
“If we keep it small, it shouldn’t be a problem,” Sam replied. “And even as it is, I’m so craving a hot and decent meal that I near enough don’t care.”
In less than an hour Sam had put together a wonderfully fragrant stew. Harry had scrounged around the clearing and turned up a few herbs that Sam added to the pot. All those years of tending Aunt Petunia’s garden in the summer were useful after all, he thought as he watched the pot bubble, the scent of stewed rabbit rising with the steam.
Gollum bounded up on all fours, carrying some roots and humming to himself. As soon as he encountered the pot, however, he let out a shriek.
“What’s it doing, precious? It ruins tasty meat!”
“Oh, quiet with you,” Sam said as he stirred his cooking. “As my Gaffer always said, a good hot stew’ll always do you some good.”
“Yechhh!” Gollum said, making a face.
“Mayhap you ought to quit whining and try a bit,” Sam snapped. He turned to Harry. “Hand me that pan so I can give some to Mr. Frodo.”
Harry reached for the small pan and spoon and glanced around the clearing. “Where is he? He was next to you a moment ago.”
Sam looked up from his cooking. “Frodo?”
“Where’d he go?” Harry asked. “Wait a second…”
They sat for a few moments, the only sound coming from the gently bubbling stew. And then they heard it: a rumbling carried through the earth that could only come from the marching of hundreds upon hundreds of feet.
“Do you hear that?” he asked Sam in a hushed voice.
The gardener nodded, eyes wide.
Harry swore under his breath. “And Frodo’s gone and wandered off. What if it’s Orcs? He could be caught!” He reached for his sword and made sure he had his wand before heading in the direction of the sound. Looking back, he saw that Sam had stamped out the fire and was following.
Now he understood how worried Ron and Hermione felt whenever he was in danger. He would plunge headfirst into all sorts of situations while they were left wondering where he was in if he was all right.
“Pssst! Frodo!” he hissed as he and Sam crept closer to the sound.
“Over here,” Frodo said, waving his hand at them. He was flat on his stomach, concealed from the source of the sound by a screen of underbrush. “Look!”
Harry followed Sam, crawling next to the Hobbits. His jaw dropped open at the sight that me this eyes.
They were not Orcs, but rather an army of Men. The line stretched on for quite some distance. Every soldier carrying some sort of weapon or was bearing a banner.
“Who are they?” he wondered aloud.
“Wicked Men,” hissed Gollum’s voice just behind him.
Harry suppressed a yelp, and saw the two Hobbits do the same.
“Oi, don’t go doing that!” Sam said. “Why can’t you make yourself known like any normal being would?”
Gollum shrugged. “We is trying to be quiet – wicked oness must not see usss!”
“But where are they going?” Harry asked. “They’re Men, couldn’t they easily be on out side?”
Gollum snorted and rolled his eyes. “Silly, they is going to the East. The Dark One is gathering forces – to Mordor they goes!” Suddenly he turned and darted away.
“Sméagol?” Frodo asked. He looked, but Gollum had disappeared among the trees.
“We should go,” Harry said. “I don’t like Gollum, but whether he’s run off because he saw something or if he’s gone to betray us – ”
“He would do no such thing!” Frodo protested.
Harry sighed. Blinder than Dumbledore is when it comes to Snape. “Right, come on, let’s get out of here.” He began to turn around when Sam seized Frodo’s arm, mouth agape and eyes staring at something.
“Look, Mr. Frodo! No one at home would ever believe us!”
Frodo and Harry looked outwards once more, and Harry’s eyes widened in shock.
There were elephants bearing warriors upon their backs, but even Harry, who had been to the zoo a few times in his life, was rendered speechless by the sight. The creatures were unlike any elephant Harry had seen or even heard of. Their enormous tusks were decorated fiercely with sharp spikes, and the towers they bore on their backs were the size of small houses.
“Oliphaunts,” Sam breathed. “I never thought I’d see one.”
The oliphaunts paraded past with the rest of the army. This is what we’re up against, Harry thought. A Fellowship of nine – and now us, a group of four – against armies upon armies of Men and Orcs and such creatures – it seems more impossible than my defeating Voldemort. Fear struck him suddenly – how were they to make it past these armies once they made it to Mordor?
Suddenly chaos erupted amongst the ranks. Those of foot feel out of their marching formation, dead or fleeing in confusion; the oliphaunts were gong mad, twisting their bodies and stamping so strongly that people were shaken from the towers to their deaths. As Harry watched more closely, he saw that the commotion was caused by arrows flying from the trees.
“We’re not alone here,” Frodo said, apparently seeing the arrows as well. “Come, we must leave but remain unseen!”
The invisibility cloak is at the camp, Harry thought in frustration. As they turned to leave, the body of a young soldier pierced by an arrow flew though the air to land in front of them.
“Let’s go!” Harry said urgently, struggling to keep his voice low. He crouched and began to walk quickly back in the direction of the camp. All of a sudden, he stumbled to the ground. When he went to pick himself up again, he noticed a pair of unfamiliar boots before his eyes. Glancing up, he saw a cloaked Man reaching for a sword. With a yelp, Harry rolled away and jerked his sword out of its sheath as he stood.
Even as their swords clanged together, Harry knew he was not ready. In his haste, he had not gripped the sword properly, and he was also out of practice.
“Harry!” Frodo’s voice called. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two Hobbits unsheathe their own swords and charge, but he could not afford any more than that brief sight. He would defend Frodo, but he could not do that if he was killed by this Man…
Their swords classed again and again as they fought around the trees; Harry soon had a tree at his back and was trying to recall all the forms and subtle tricks Aragorn had taught them. But now he was trapped; the strategy of fighting with something at his back might have worked against a group of Orcs all approaching from the same direction, but this opponent was skilled enough to keep his back pressed against the tree. He could not move, and he had to parry all the strokes he could. If only he had not made this mistake…
The sword flew from his shaking hands to rest on the ground. Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow – I tried, Frodo, I tried, I’m so sorry...
But it never came. He opened his eyes.
The point of the sword was resting at his throat, but his opponent made no move to attack any further. Harry dared not move, but looking around, he was able to see that Frodo and Sam were struggling ineffectually against their own captors.
“Please! We’re innocent travelers!” Sam cried.
“Travelers?” came a Man’s voice. “There are no travelers here, only servants of the Dark Lord.”
“Oh, and what does that make you?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. Instantly he wished he hadn’t said anything. The Man fixed Harry with a hard stare, and even as Harry met his eyes, he saw the expression in them turn to one of puzzlement.
“What,” said the Man slowly, “is a Gondorian such as yourself doing here, so far from any settlement and in such company? Do you not realize – ”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” Harry said, frowning. “A what, exactly?”
“Please, let us go!” Sam said. “We mean no harm.”
“Our mission is secret,” Frodo said. “If you truly oppose the Enemy as much as you appear, you would do well not to hinder our progress.”
The Man, still hooded, looked down at the body of the young soldier who had been killed. “Indeed.”
“It’s urgent,” Harry said. “Any delay – ”
“I imagine that this soldier’s sense of duty, of purpose, was no less than yours,” the man interrupted. “Perhaps he did not know the evil for which he went to fight. Where he came from, whether he was truly good, I do not know.” He turned to the companions. “You offer as little explanation as he does. I cannot know if you speak the truth. Bind their hands,” he said to the others.
Harry saw frustration well up in Sam and Frodo’s eyes. But they had no choice—unarmed as they were, they could do nothing but obey. Vainly Harry tried to search the memories that were Frodo’s, but he recalled only darkness.
I can’t let them take the Ring, Harry thought. I can’t let them near Frodo. With every step we take out of here, the stronger Sauron grows!
And with that despairing thought, they were hurried through the trees.
