By the time Aragorn returned to the clearing where he had left Legolas, the Elf had opened his eyes, one hand gently touching the bark of an enormous tree. He whispered something to the tree, then turned to the Man.
“What did it tell you?” Aragorn asked curiously.
“This island is indeed part of an ancient land,” Legolas said, coming to where Aragorn waited. “The trees have slept, at peace and undisturbed, for a long span of years -- until recently.” He looked grim. “Something stalks this jungle -- not evil in itself, but a servant of evil.”
“What does it look like?”
Legolas shook his head. “The trees cannot discern either form or substance. It walks unseen.”
“Invisible?” Aragorn frowned. “What manner of creature has this ability?”
“I know not,” Legolas sighed. “Perhaps the wizard of whom Gandalf spoke has learned to shroud this creature from the sight of others.”
“It may walk unseen, but it does have form and substance,” Aragorn said grimly. “It leaves tracks such as I have never seen before. Their size is beyond my experience.”
Legolas looked down at the Ranger’s hand. “You found your plant?”
“Yes.” Aragorn gently tucked the long, vibrant leaves he held into the pouch at his belt. “Athelas, it is called. It grows in rare patches in Middle-earth, brought to that land by those who once lived here.”
“It has a sweet fragrance. What are its properties?”
Aragorn smiled. “You will see. Let us return to camp.”
~*~
The Company, less Ranger, Elf, and Dwarf, sat together under the shelter, protected from the heat of the afternoon sun. Airline seats and cushions had been arranged in as large and comfortable a circle as possible.
“Sam, you said you trusted Aragorn,” Frodo said.
“I do,” Sam replied. “There’s naught to fear from him. I just want to check things for myself, if you don’t mind.”
Frodo smiled indulgently as Sam unwrapped the bandages around his injured leg. Throughout their long friendship, Sam had walked at his side, keeping his secrets and looking out for him. More than a friend, he thought, but the brother I never had.
Sam frowned as the last layer of cloth was removed.
“What’s wrong?” Frodo asked, alarmed.
“Not a thing,” Sam replied, “you’re healing well. I don’t see any swelling or... anything bad.”
“You don’t sound very pleased,” Frodo teased him as Sam re-wrapped the leg.
“You’ve got me a mite worried,” Sam admitted. “You shouldn’t have a fever, Frodo. There’s just no reason for it.”
“I can’t say that I’m feeling that well,” Frodo admitted, “but I’m sure there’s nothing seriously wrong. We were all very lucky not to have sustained worse injuries.”
"You'd better check Merry next, Sam," Pippin suggested with a grin. "He's been acting a little odd."
"I'm fine," Merry said hastily. “Have you learned anything, Frodo?” He pointed to the maps and logbooks scattered around.
“Nothing good,” Frodo sighed. “There are islands charted off the western coast,” he said, pointing to one of the maps, “but our course wouldn’t have taken us anywhere near them. It’s impossible to say exactly where we are.”
“It’ll be all right,” Pippin said reassuringly. “Gandalf said that the Elves would have a rescue ship here in a week, and it’s been two days already.” He looked up into the nearby trees. “Is that fruit?” He jumped up and raced off.
“That youngster is certainly adjusting well to our situation,” Boromir chuckled.
“It’s a trait of his family,” Merry explained. “The Tooks seem to thrive on adventure and the unknown.”
~*~
Aragorn and Legolas returned at about the same time as Gimli. The Dwarf, looking very pleased with himself, dragged into camp a young boar he had killed.
“You’ll not starve, young hobbits,” he declared. “My father and cousins told me many tales, including how much a hobbit can eat if given a chance.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sam said appreciatively. “All we need's a roasting pit, and I can feed everyone good and proper. We salvaged a wonderful lot of spices from the galley...” He looked at what was left of the fuselage and sighed. “... and there are plenty of herbs we can---”
“And we won’t let you starve either, Gimli,” Pippin interrupted, pointing to where a cache of smoked fish and fresh fruits lay nearby.
“Well done,” the Dwarf nodded approvingly.
“Merry helped,” Pippin said generously.
"We're glad you're back," Sam said to Aragorn and Legolas. "I've got some water heating for tea."
“Aye, you were gone a long time,” Boromir added. Aragorn wondered if the Gondorian had believed that he and Legolas had abandoned them and would not return.
“What have you learned?” Gandalf asked.
“We found tracks so large...” Aragorn frowned. “I cannot explain it.”
“The trees are uneasy,” Legolas added quietly. “Frodo’s dream was a true one; the sound we heard was made by something of vast size, and which cannot be seen. It is shrouded -- perhaps Shadowed -- by one who wishes its presence to frighten and confuse us.”
“Gandalf,” Frodo said suddenly, “If that... thing exists in Shadow, I might be able to see it, if it returns.”
“No,” said the wizard instantly. “If you enter the Shadow world, the creature -- and its master -- will be able to see you.”
“But we need to know what we’re up against,” Frodo insisted. “Besides, it can see me already. Or... well, something can. In my dream, there was an Eye looking right at me.”
“How can Frodo see this creature when we cannot?” Boromir asked, puzzled.
Aragorn's attention was caught by how pale and weak Frodo still appeared. His healer's heart overriding everything else, he knelt next to Frodo, smiling at the trust he saw in the remarkable blue eyes.
"Frodo," the Ranger said, "I have found a plant that should ease you greatly. Since Sam has water heating, this would be a good time to---”
Legolas suddenly went very still, every sense on alert. “Something approaches,” he whispered. “The trees murmur in fear.”
Pippin looked at Merry, wide-eyed, as the ground trembled slightly beneath them. A sudden crashing and bellowing echoed through the jungle. As Aragorn leaped to his feet and drew his sword, Gimli picked up one of his makeshift spears and tossed a second to Boromir.
“Gandalf,” Frodo said quickly, “this may be our only chance. I know you said to never put it on, but---”
The wizard sighed. “All right.” He knelt and wrapped his arms about the hobbit’s waist. “I do not wish to lose track of you.”
“Do you know what they’re---” Boromir’s words died as he saw Frodo pull a golden ring from the inner pocket of his vest. The gold glittered... beckoned... All eyes were on the hobbit and what he held.
“Isildur’s Bane,” Aragorn whispered.
“You mean to wear it?” Sam gasped. “Gandalf, don’t you let go of him.”
“I will not,” Gandalf promised.
Frodo took a deep breath, then slipped the Ring onto the middle finger of his left hand... and vanished from sight.
The chorus of gasps from the astonished onlookers was broken by Pippin suddenly leaping to his feet and looking around wildly. “Where’s Merry?” he cried.
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