Gaining Speed {Lord of the Rings Crossover: Book 2}

Chapter Thirteen

March time in the Shire was always an exciting time. One of the few occasions during the year in which the normally laid back hobbits could be seen busying themselves to the point of hobbit level hysteria. Even with the soft pinch of winter's chill peppering the halflings' cheeks, the hobbits of Hobbiton could be found out in their fields sowing seeds for the year's harvest.

Merry and Pippin were always fond of the sowing season much like any hobbit. When they were young the mischievous pair would run through the freshly planted fields scaring away birds as they burned off their stored winter energy. Their mothers, Esmeralda and Eglanline would cast the two wayward spirits out at first light to play alongside the other children under the watchful eye of Bilbo's feline companion Calypso.

The two cubs would follow the cheetah closer than her own shadow, the feline's evening walks often ending by the young mothers hillsides dropping off the sleepy hobbits before returning to her cosy pillow by Bilbo's fireplace.

'There are many things in Middle-Earth which would seek you harm little cubs. You are lucky for you are small and swift, meaning those who hunt you must catch you. So promise me little cubs that when you run you run far and fast, because the kill is the only thing more thrilling than the chase.'

Their clouded childhood innocence turned running away from the fearsome predator into a game. It was not a terrifying creature with menacing claws and sharp dagger teeth, it was merely Calypso, the misunderstood creature who licked their scraped knees clean when they fell, and pretended to be a mighty knight's steed until they forgot the pain. Whether they ventured in the brisk light of day or the bitter dark of night, fear could never find them.

So instead it waited, under the nightfall of Fangorn.

_ _ _

"Did we lose him?" Pippin questioned looking over his shoulder into the dark, the heat of his words freezing into vapour as the temperature of the wood dropped around them with each rushing step, "I think we lost him." The pair continued their hurried steps through the twisted tree roots of Fangorn, the young hobbits only stopping as they collapsed breathlessly onto the forest floor.

The two cubs gasped for air oblivious to the creeping rivers of ice slivering out from the tree roots towards them with sinister intent. Spirals of frost reached out over the leaf littered ground as it silently hunted the two halflings. As the icy spurs readied for the kill, a lone Orc appeared behind the pair drunkenly weaving through the trees, its blade held tightly as it sneered down at its prey.

"I'm gonna rip out your filthy little innards!" Roared the Orc, "Come here!"

"Move Pippin!" Merry cried, the elder hobbit pulling Pippin to his feet before stopping abruptly in front of the glistening tendrils of ice. 'Instinct is seldom wrong,' Calypso's voice whispered to the cub.

"Stay away from the ice," Merry murmured, still unsure of his decision.

"He's getting closer!" Pippin forewarned watching the Orc as it continued to stumble through the trees, "Pippin!" Merry yelled gaining his attention, "stay away from the ice," he voiced firmly earning a nod in return.

"Come on," he uttered, pulling his friend through the maze of twisting roots and creeping cold. "Trees! Climb a tree!" Together the pair quickly scrambled up the rough bark, only stopping when the sight of the ground below made their sight swirl from the height.

"He's gone," Merry sighed in relief, looking around half-heartedly as he tried to regain his breath. A roar bellowed beneath them startling the hobbits as Merry is suddenly pulled down by his leg, falling to the ground in a heap with a harsh gasp of air, the Orc looming over him hungrily. Spluttering for air Merry lashes out at his attacker, kicking him in the face with all the strength he could muster but the growling Orc was undeterred. In a feeble attempt at escape Merry backed away, however step by menacing step the looming figure followed him as he scurried on the forest floor.

High above in the trees Pippin watched on helplessly, "Merry!" Suddenly two yellow eyes blinked open behind the hobbit, glancing over at the halfling before looking down towards the scene unfolding on the ground. A sharp prickling erupted across Pippin's neck, the same sensation he remembered as a child being stalked by the Narnian warrior, however the games were over and the cheetah was far away. Realisation dawned on the hobbit, fighting his fear the cub looked back slowly, meeting a large pair of eyes furrowed in anger. The sight of the creature left Pippin speechless, his grip losing from the tree limbs as the distance to the ground below was forgotten. A scream left the hobbit before the towering tree reached out and caught the hobbit, gripping him tightly in his fist.

"Let's put a maggot hole in your belly!" The Orc screamed, behind the pair the monstrous tree raised its leg high before bringing it down and smashing the Orc into the dirt with a sickening squelch.

"Run Merry!"

The cub bolted, his short legs dashing across the forest floor with surprising quickness only to be swiftly overtaken by the trees mighty steps, the towering titan scooping up Merry with ease as if he weighed nothing at all.

Together the two hobbits struggled against the tightening tendals of bark as the tree continued its walk through the forest. The titan followed no set path yet the giant waived its way through the thickening and darkening undergrowth with purposeful steps, ever so often the towering being would glare venomously towards thick patches of ice which appeared to crawl out from the decaying tree leaf's like serpents slivering into their path.

The behemoth took pleasure in the piercing hiss, the white frosted venom created when crushed under his feet. The giant seemed to avoid larger patches, choosing instead to simply step over the nuisance even as the frost swirls stretched out their bitter fingers.

"Little Orcs. Burarum..."

The cubs stilled, stopping their struggling as they shared a look of alarm, the tree spoke, its voice no more than a grumbling low whisper rough from disuse. "It's talking, Merry. The tree is talking."

"Tree?!" The titan growled, "I am no tree!" He continued staring down at the pair clenched in his fists, "I am an Ent." Merry smiled in delight as recognition dawned on him. Calypso had told the cubs many things about the world, the mysteries and wonders of Middle Earth were seemingly endless in the eyes of young halflings, for such small creatures they always appeared to crave big adventures. "A tree-herder. A shepherd of the forest."

While Calypso was a feline capable of speaking both common tongue and dwarfish quite beautifully, the Ent speaking was landing quite wrongly with the younger hobbit. In distant memory the young cub could remember the feline spinning tall tales of trees that danced with the wind, their strong branches stripped barren from winter's chill yet blanketed in a thick layer of snow. "Is it Narnian?" Pippin whispered, the young hobbit still trying his best to rationalise his thoughts which proved difficult within the Ents clenched fist.

The titan continued his journey through the forest, his heavy footfalls slowly becoming more even as the patches of ice and frost began to thin. "wretched things," he spat, crushing a collection of icy swirls beginning to fester amongst the sea of green.

"Treebeard, some call me" he spoke to the two wide eyed cubs, "and whose side are you on?" Pippin questioned, the young hobbit moving his gaze away from the melting ice towards the towering giant, the fearful cub couldn't help thinking about how he wished not to be crushed in the same manner as the sickening ice. "Side?" Treebeard questioned in return as if the notion was comical, "I am on nobody's side" he spoke again breathlessly, "because nobody's on my side, little Orc. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."

"We're not Orcs!" Merry cried, "We're Hobbits!"

"Hobbits? Never heard of a Hobbit before. Sounds like Orc mischief to me!" Merry and Pippin let out a whimper of pain as Treebeard tightened his hold on the pair, squeezing them in his fists until their lungs burn. "They come with fire. They come with axes. Gnazing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning! Destroyers and usurpers! Curse them! Like their wretched Queen cursed us with her wicked ice, her poison! Tirelessly her frost burrows deep into the soil stealing our manner, Crush them! Crush them all!"

"No!" Merry gasped, "you don't understand. We're Hobbits, Halflings! Shire-folk!"

"Maybe you are, and maybe you aren't. The white wizard will know."

"The white wizard?" Pippin whispered, looking towards Merry in alarm.

"Saruman."