With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 63: Farewells

Aragorn turned from Pippin to Legolas. Gandalf saw doubt return to the Ranger, but likely for new reasons. "I would have you by my side on my journey. But only by your choice can you go."

The wizard watched Legolas and found another surprise as the elf turned in silence to face the view of Rohan once more. Before Legolas had turned from the man, Gandalf caught a glimpse of fear in his eyes.

In all his long life, Gandalf never thought to see an elf shrink from such a plea. Least of all, Legolas, a proud and seasoned warrior of Greenwood the Great. Gandalf had to admit, while Legolas had healed much, he had yet to regain his former proud and self-assured posture. He thought of Pippin in his chair as he had stood up to Gandalf at the morning meal. It was one of the most courageous acts he had seen from the hobbit.

No, that was unfair. In the past weeks, Pippin, like the others, no doubt had found courage and strength he had not known he had had. Gone was much of the trepidation Gandalf was accustomed to seeing in the young hobbit. And with it likely much of the innocence. If it had not been entirely impossible, Gandalf would have said that the hobbit had grown. His stature was taller, larger, somehow. Mayhap he had been surrounded by the Big Folk for so long... yes, he held himself as one of the Big Folk. The wizard wondered what sort of welcome the hobbits of the Shire would offer him upon his return.

He shook his head. What the elf seemed to have lost, this hobbit seemed to have gained. What sort of days were these when hobbits grew and elves shrunk?

This would not do. Legolas and Gimli would not speak to one another. Such a cleft was devastating enough. Now, as Aragorn declared he would take a course from which no man had emerged in all the history of the Rohirrim, the others argued over the decision. Gimli disagreed with the wisdom of such a path. The hobbits found it an unnecessary risk. Yet these three appeared ready to follow Aragorn in the end.

Difficult as it was to believe, it seemed Legolas feared to follow such a path. Not for meeting the dead, Gandalf was certain, for elves had no such fear. Legolas had had enough of orcs. And he could not yet wield a bow. Mayhap he feared to meet the Enemy while unable to defend himself.

Far worse than the fear and reluctance among the Fellowship, however, was the doubt he had seen in Aragorn. If the Ranger doubted his own decision, all that followed could go awry.

Gandalf climbed from the steps onto the terrace. Looking over the Company, he found other signs of danger. Fatigue—bone-deep fatigue—in every face, better hidden in some than others. It was an exhaustion of more than the body, from which the doubt and fear grew, replacing their determination and bravery. Could they have forgotten their first steps from Rivendell and their oaths to see the quest through to the end, no matter the cost? No, their courage was not lost. It remained within, Gandalf was sure, buried beneath weariness and pain.

Scowling, Gandalf put one hand on his hip, his ever-present staff in the other. Something must be done. The Company was collapsing before him. It was time for some wizard meddling.

As he looked at each of them in the growing silence, they turned to him one by one. That was better. He stepped forward. "In recent days, our feet have traveled different paths in the grass. Each path has had its own rocks and rabbit holes with which to contend—"

Merry scowled. "Rabbit hole? We fell into an orc-sized hole!"

Gandalf looked at him sternly, but he received only defiance in return. Ah, neither hobbit had been unchanged. "Indeed," he murmured. "...And with these came a measure of suffering for body, mind, and spirit. Yet the paths have led all of us here to Edoras. Because of this, I believe we are meant to continue the task assigned to us in Rivendell."