The air was filled with smoke, and nothing but the crackle of dying fires, and the gentle whisper of the wind moving through the trees could be heard. For there was an unusual stillness in the air. There was no birdsong, not the rustling of any other animal could be heard from within the deep and twisted forest. Where no wind, and very little light seemed to penetrate its broad and swollen treeline. This was a woodland that had been untouched by the hands of men or elves for generations.

But the peace would not last. For soon, from the hills beyond came the unmistakable sound of galloping horses, wandering towards the ears of the forest. Closer the riders came, stopping a mere dozen strides from where the murder pyre lay ahead, as not to discomfort their steeds. To keep them out of the worst of the smog, that even now they could feel tickling the backs of their throats as they walked towards the pile of dead Uruk-hai.

The four hunters had finally caught their quarry, perhaps too late. They were apprehensive. And feared the worst. The Eorlingas had told them that they had found no Halflings. Had they slaughtered all the Uruks? The carcasses were piled high, but perhaps their quarry had split and headed into many groups? Perhaps not all were accounted for on this pyre. There had been no evidence of this event however, and Uruks were heavy footed. Confident in their tracking skills they all were, yet even the wisest, most experience hunter could lose their prey occasionally.

So they started digging, sifting through the burnt and stinking bodies of the foul Uruk-hai. Even in death, with skin burned to cinders they still seemed fierce and animalistic. From the ground they had come, and to which their ashes would now return. Perhaps it was a mercy. What a terrible form of life they were. They knew not beauty or the pleasures of life. Only malice and pain. But the fellowship did not ponder on these questions long. For it was not the remains of Uruks they were searching for.

They needed confirmation. They needed to know the fates of the little ones. How had the Rohirrim not seen the Halflings? Hobbits could hide astounding well from the likes of man, more so then you would expect. But the Uruks had been caught in the open. If they escaped by some chance, then they must have hidden in the trees or they would have been seen. But if they found nothing of them between here and the eaves of the wood, nor upon the battle-field and among the ashes, the chances of their survival were slim. The horsemen of Rohan had done their murder work too well.

"Where is the Chief?" Gimli asked gruffly. "His strength would make ease of this task. And his armour would save him having to endure the smell." It had not been difficult for Chief to explain to them the principles of his vacuum sealed suit. In a world where making watertight skins was common, the idea that this principle could also be applied to armour was not so farfetched. Although, they hadn't yet figured out how it was possible the Spartan could breathe!

But his question stood. Where was John? With their horses travelling at their fullest, they had lost sight of him less than two leagues ago. The warrior had set a shocking pace at first, keeping foot (or possibly hoof!) with the horses of the Rohirrim no less. But eventually even the Spartan had needed to slow his pace, and they had lost eye of him after winding long through the hilly pass towards Fangorn...

"Good Chief! Couple of kilometres left to run. You've been maintaining a pace of 27.2km for a long while now. Take it down just a little so we're not burning off too much energy." Cortana continued updating him, monitoring his vitals and getting the most out of her soldier. "Hope you're not too embarrassed about getting left behind by the horsies!"

He wasn't. His face was stern, all emotion purged from it. It had been interesting, pushing himself, trying his luck to see how well he could keep up with the animals. He had surprised himself, and the others most certainly. But after the first four kilometres, sensibility had kicked in. It was pointless to burn himself out over a single, pointless event. He was in the wilderness, with finite supplies, performing what already was a demanding forced march. The others needed him, and they hadn't yet succeeded in catching the hobbits.

"Look! We can even see the pyre now. I just hope they're ok."

Again, they were out in the wilderness, and he couldn't afford to burn himself out for idiotic reasons. Not with people relying on them. At least Cortana wasn't giving him too much grief. She was only half joking now, also worried for the little ones. She could be trying at times. But, it was nice to hear her voice coming from inside his helmet again.

"And this is what your elf eyes see Legolas!" Aragorn called out to the sentinel standing on lookout.

"Indeed! He heads from the foot of the hills. He makes good haste, and will be with us in little time." Good was an understatement. The Spartan could be truly inspiring at times.

The other three continued to work, picking their way through the debris. Some of the pyre's contents crumbled in their grasp, and their hands and arms were now covered with oil and black, oozing liquid. And the smell. Burrowing through the sickening mass of bodily remains and armour. Then, moving a corpse aside, Aragorn spies something. Against a mass of black, he sees a charred, yet evidently coloured item. Not completely burned, with patches of faded green that still remained.

Uruks shunned such colours. He recognises it immediately, and picks it from the pile and holds it.

"It's one of their wee belts!" Gimli speaks in grim recognition.

Legolas hears this, turning from his watch and heading over to the others.

Boromir stands, silent. Clearly distressed by what he was seeing. "Not after all we have given!" It was an ill omen. The first evidence they had found of them, suggesting that the hobbits were fallen.

Silence fell over them for a long while. Despondent they were all, and the quiet continued until Boromir turned from the hobbits' little belt and heading back towards the pyre, pulling out bodies with fervent vigour. "Nay! It cannot be! We find the bodies. We find there corpses or refute it!"

Gimli, as if sensing his thoughts walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Leave it. A man cannot search the entire pyre."

Flushed and red-faced, Boromir fell still. The corpses were piled high, and it could take hours if not some days to find a hobbits' body. The truth was, that their minds were divided. They didn't know what to think. The hobbits had kept themselves alive in Moria, but resourcefulness had its limits. And the two had been a liability throughout the journey. Pitched battle was hazardous, a charging horse could trample and kill without effort.

They needed more evidence, clues to the two hobbit's fates. But as of now, distraction came their way. The sound of boots against earth. The Master Chief was back, and he had now caught up with the remainder of the fellowship.

"Amazing work Chief! But it's not over yet. We still have to find the hobbits. I only hope they're alive. It would kill me if anything happened to them." Cortana reported as John ground to a halt. He was fatigued now, and breathing heavily. But he would soon catch his breath. His armour was already refuelling his body with isotonic solution, replacing fluids and blood sugars lost over the course of the long haul run.

His appearance lifted their spirits a little, lessening the impact of their negative thoughts and worries. Whatever his true origins, he was a great ally to them. A supernaturally powerful warrior, who alone could influence the outcome of the war at large. Not even the Dark Lord had a Spartan on hand!

"You continue to amaze us John. We cannot thank you enough for all that you have done." Everything that he had given so far had been out of charity, no one had forgotten this.

"Thank you." He replied, still sucking through air as his body recovered. Humanity was in trouble. This was all that mattered, the only reason he needed.

"What have we found so far? Any traces of them?" He asked immediately, wishing to complete their objective as efficiently as possible.

"Ill news." Legolas replied to him. "We discover a hobbit's belt and empty sheath amongst the burned remains of the funeral pyre. The mallorn-leaf binding of like fashioned only within Lothlorien." A bad start, not enough to confirm them dead.

"What else?" He asked from them.

They were silent, they had not discovered anything else of them. Indeed, their despair had been too hasty. Quiet of them was Aragorn, who as eyes tracked to him in interest, they found him kneeled, deep in concentration and examining the ground below.

"Cortana, what is he seeing?" Chief asked, realising immediately that the man was tracking once more.

"Hmmm...Not much Chief. The ground is pretty bare, only a few scuffled areas, and a couple of depressions no less. Most likely from the skirmish last night. Feet and hooves and bodies falling about the place no doubt." She reported as the others listened. Impressed by her quick deductions.

"Just that Cortana." Aragorn replied in compliment, "For it were hobbits which lay here before." This shocked everyone including even Cortana.

"What? Hobbits? Let me do a quick scan...measuring the size of the depressions...yes, yes! Too small and shallow for a big Uruk to have fallen here. A couple of depressions I said. Why didn't I think of it before?" For their lack of processing power, and even lateral thinking, humans could even occasionally astound AI's at times. Meanwhile, she was deliberating if she should leave Chief's helmet or not. For now, she was enjoying the novelty of it. It was just like old times! And, after the exhausting past few days, she was more than willing to let Chief's legs do all the work!

"Not bad, ranger!" She told the ranger in compliment. Aragorn looked up at Chief, and smiled warmly in reply. Making her emotions flutter for a merest moment. Awen was a lucky gal to be sure!

His eyes then went serious, and he began to work once more. "They lay here, shuffling and moving." He thought out loud as he slowly pieced together the clues he was seeing. "They crawled!" He announced in recognition, sensing further depressions to the left and forward of the ones before. Boromir, Gimli and Chief watched him with fascination. All were accomplished soldiers, but knew that Aragorn's ability to do what he was doing went far and above what skill they had.

Aragorn continued to move forwards, moving on his hands and knees himself now as the others followed, retracing the steps of the little ones. "They may have been bound" He continued on, and announced once he had travelled a particular distance. It was the best explanation for why they had chosen to crawl for so long.

"Damn he's good!" Cortana mused, Chief's speaker now switched off as not to distract Aragorn. "I can just about keep up with him myself." And that was saying something. Yet still, the rangers face was set grim, a constant angst in his mind. Realistically, if the hobbits had been bound for so long, than their chances in this melee would have been slim.

Then he detected it.

Within the dust and soil and ash, concealed almost in the loose ground, were ropes. He took them, turning them over and over in examination. Two small sections of rope, each a few inches long. Tied into a loop. Tied! Bounds they were! And what was more, they had been cleaved apart, no longer loops but lengths. "Their bounds were cut!" He said, his voice betraying excitement. How could he have not? The hobbits' chances of survival had just increased exponentially.

"Hehe! I thought he'd enjoy that bit!" Cortana said in analysis. She'd overtaken that part of the story as soon as she'd seen the rope. Hell, this had been a deduction beneath hers and Aragorn's calibre. But now, with the trail growing complex again, he'd caught her up. It was a good omen, Chief was sure. If Cortana was bantering again, she was confident that the hobbits were alive.

"They stood, and ran...over here!" Aragorn told them, he himself now jogging after the footprints. He could almost picture the hobbits running to and throw as they attempted to survive the battle around them.

"And...It seems they were followed." A perceptive elf added from behind, noting an abrupt pause in their trail, their merger with another, and a lot of black blood staining the ground around. Aragorn paused for a moment, and confirmed what Legolas had said.

"Hmm...Perhaps that's how the belt was lost, in the struggle perhaps?" Cortana mused. But without asking the dead Uruks, or the hobbits themselves, she had no means of validation.

Then, they continued on. After their obstruction, the hobbits had continued. "Their tracks lead away from the battle!" The ranger shouted to the others, speeding up as he saw the stride lengths between the footprints grow.

"Oh damn" Cortana cried out, knowing where their road had lead them. Everyone had stopped now, and was gazing into the high and twisted forest towering above them.

"Away from the battle...into Fangorn forest." Chief stated flatly. He had familiarised himself with the region the night before, and did not like what his knowledge was telling him.

All their elation had been turned, again, to angst.

"And I saw Lothlorien to be a fell wood in all its regard." Boromir stated, gazing into the black and twisted confines of the place, if you could call it a woodland.

"Fangorn. What madness drove them in there?"

It seemed that the tracking of their quarry had not yet ended after all. They just hoped that the fabled stealth of hobbits was exaggerated...