Chapter 14: Jasper

Disclaimer: Tolkien's work belongs to him. We know that. (sniffle)

A/N: So, who has been happily writing chapter 15 this whole time and only now realized chapter 14 wasn't published...

Onwards!

This was the strangest thing Sebastian had ever seen in all the days since he hatched.

Once the ground stopped shaking, all the elves came out of every door and window in Rivendell. Every single one of them turned around and around, trying to figure out why the ground was shaking.

Precious flowers, Sebastian thought impertinently.

One by one, they all turned to Elrond's home and saw what was no longer there. No one approached the house, though. The baby eagle didn't blame them.

Sebastian circled the Last Homely Home again and again, looking for the company. Even though they would, most likely, be invisible; Sebastian needed to see them, needed to know they were safe. He wouldn't relax until he knew for sure.

"BIFUR-DWARF!" Sebastian called out every few minutes, with no answer.

Since Radagast-man had literally run into Thorin-dwarf's Company, Sebastian had instantly liked these dwarves. They were loud and fun. All of them would sneak him food when they thought no one was looking. He would be the size of Bombur-dwarf soon, but what a way to go! Even the grumpy King would save a few bites of super and give him a midnight snack when he was on watch (and no one else was awake). But the food was only part of it. These dwarves were family now.

There was only one in the company that he avoided at all cost- the dwarf who refused to wear boots. With every fiber in his being, Sebastian was terrified of that tiny dwarf, and for the life of him, he couldn't explain why!

The Bilbo-dwarf was the kindest of them all, and yet, there was this feeling that something else was inside that dwarf. As powerful as Radagast-man was, it was nothing compared to Bilbo-dwarf. The power was frighteningly intense. Without control, Sebastian was afraid for the company.

It wouldn't surprise him at all to find out that Bilbo-dwarf was behind the ground shaking. No good would come from traveling with that dwarf, but Bifur-dwarf wouldn't hear a bad word about him. It was the only thing that Bifur-dwarf refused to understand.

Finally, someone came out of Elrond's house. Sebastian was disappointed to see it was the Sons of Elrond, the blind elf, and...

Who is that?! Sebastian thought, swooping down to sit in a huge window where the West Tower had been. He wasn't a dwarf, human, or an elf. The only thing Sebastian could sense from this being was pure magic. It was as if old magic had gathered and formed into the shape of a man. Unlike Bilbo-dwarf, who terrified Sebastian, this creature was filled with laughter and amusement.

Sebastian was so focused on this creature that he was scared half to death when a hand closed around his beak. Fight-or-Flight instincts are very strong in eagles. A familiar voice whispered to him before he could work himself into a frenzy.

"Sebastian, it's me, Balin." The tiny eagle instantly relaxed and allowed the invisible dwarf to settle him comfortably on his invisible arm.

"Balin-dwarf! Are you alright? What happened?" Of course, Balin-dwarf had no idea what his squawks and chirps actually meant, but the old dwarf could hear the distress and confusion.

"I wish I knew, Lad. I wish I knew. Gandalf-"

A growling noise from down the hall had both of them looking around. "That came from Radagast's room. They left him alone!" Balin shouted before becoming visible and running down the hall.

Sebastian flew ahead of the old dwarf. For some reason, he couldn't sense Radagast-man. The wizard was the first one he saw after hatching. While he now traveled with Thorin-dwarf's company, Sebastian would always have a bond with Radagast-man. The little Eagle should've sensed him, but there was nothing.

One thing Sebastian knew for certain: that growl did not come from Radagast-man. It was too menacing and animalistic for any man to make.

"Let me go in first, Sebastian!" Balin-dwarf huffed, struggling to keep up with the small eagle.

Not a chance! Sebastian thought, swooping into the room only to screech in terror at the sight of the monster.

With a small shout of joy, Gimli finally found it- the white, flowery plant from Uncle Oin's bead. He had seen this plant a few times, but had never needed it like he did now.

"We got it! Time to head back" he announced proudly to his four-legged companion. Fang, one of the farm hounds, had taken an instant liking to Gimli, despite how they first met. He blushed with a bit of shame and fear as the strong memories of last night were still heavy on his mind...

Seeing the Shire burning and under attack, Lady Dis had ordered the warriors ahead of the caravan to aid the Hobbits. Knowing that a battle, finally, was taking place, Gimli quietly ran among the warriors as both Mama and Lady Dis charged. He knew Mama would be furious, but he wanted, no, he needed to see battle for himself.

If he had known what he was going to see, he would've run back and hid in the wagon.

There was smoke everywhere, making it difficult to see and breathe. The smell of burning vegetables, and worse, was so pungent in the air that Gimli gagged. He stumbled, moving to the other side of a barn to avoid being seen by several snarling shadows running in his direction through the smoke.

Gimli pulled out the small axe his father had made for him, hearing movement behind him. Twirling around, he let out a mighty roar which turned into a high-pitched squeal as a rough tongue licked his face.

Dropping his axe to wipe his face, Gimli saw an enormous dog sitting calmly beside him. This dog was bigger than a Warg, or even a pony. It had a brown shiny coat. What caught Gimli's attention were the eyes - not even a hint of malice or hatred, only curiosity and happiness at seeing him, with a dash of worry.

This can't be an evil Warg, Gimli thought in confusion. Where was the massive monster with jaws that could snap a dwarf in half?

A snarl from nearby made Gimli decide; he really didn't want to know what a Warg truly looked like anymore. Whining softly, the dog reached behind Gimli and picked him up by the scruff of his armor.

"Hey! Put me down, your mangy beast. I'm warning you, if you don't drop me this instant, I'll chop your tail up like a carrot!" Gimli continued to threaten the beast, flailing his arms and kicking his feet. The dog refused to drop him as it ran around to the other side of the barn.

Having no other option, Gimli knew there was only one thing left to try.

"Mama!" he yelled as loud as he could. It felt so...cowardly to have to yell for her, but he knew that he was in real trouble.

From somewhere nearby, through the smoke, he heard his mother yelling back, "Gimli! Where are you? Gimli!"

Before he could answer her, the dog crawled through a hole in the barn wall. To his dismay, Gimli noticed that the hole wasn't easily seen from the outside.

Instantly, the sound of battle decreased. The air was refreshing after being outside in the burning-wreckage-formerly-known-as-the-Shire for so long. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness but once they did, Gimli noticed two other large dogs huddled in the corner, guarding 4 small creatures.

"I need more water! The bleeding isn't stopping", one of the small Hobbit's said. Gimli was dropped gently by the side of this Hobbit, noticing for the first time that one of them was hurt badly.

His arrival was met with shouts of fright as the other Hobbits finally noticed him.

"Fang, I told you to get help, not a dwarf!"

"Why is there a dwarf in the Shire?"

"Mama, Look out! The Old Pooper!" the injured dwarf yelled in a fevered daze. He was sweating profusely and writhing in pain.

The dog laid down beside Gimli watching with fear and sadness as the injured Hobbit continued to sob and clutch at his friend's arm. Gimli couldn't blame the child for crying as the other arm looked like a mangled mess. He swallowed loudly, trying desperately not to be sick at the horrible sight.

One of the Hobbits started to shake Gimli by the arm. Still feeling rather stunned, Gimli realized the Hobbit was talking to him, "- Pippin, that's Merry and Sam. My cousin, Frodo, was attacked by one of those monsters. Help us, please!"

Seeing all the children starring at him, the little dwarf began to panic. As one of only a handful of dwarven children in Middle Earth, no one ever looked up to him, especially with something this serious. Looking left, he met the eyes of his canine 'abductor' and came to a decision.

"Stay here. I'm gonna get Mama. She'll know what to do."

A sudden lick to his hand was so unexpected, it jarred him out of that terrible memory and brought Gimli back to the present. Fang whimpered and tried to lick his hand again, but the dwarf quickly moved it to scratch his ears. He knew the dog was getting ready to pick him up again if he continued to be distracted.

"Silly creature. I was a bit lost for a moment. We've got to hurry." Gimli said, running back to the large healing tent that was setup under the Party tree.

He imagined the tree had looked splendid, only yesterday. Several of the branches were still smoldering, but the tree had endured, whereas most of the farms in the Shire couldn't boast the same. The houses and hillsides were still on fire, but thankfully, no one was still inside. All of the uninjured Hobbits were scattered outside of the tent, looking dazed and frightened. Inside the tent wasn't any better.

Hobbits and dwarves were running between cots with poultices, potions, and bandages. It was chaos trying to navigate towards the back of the tent where several dwarven guards were standing by a cot.

From the moment Lady Dis and Mama had broken through the door of the barn, they were inseparable. Lady Dis sat at the bedside of Frodo Baggins, holding his uninjured hand. She refused to move from Frodo's bedside. While the Hobbitling had, by some miracle, kept the injured arm, how much he would be able to use it, only time would tell. The little one was fighting for breath as a terrible fever wracked his body.

A similar fever was ravaging all the patients who'd been bitten by a Warg. The dwarves had never seen anything like it. When Wargs attacked in the past, they were the first wave, killing as many as possible, before the Orcs joined the fray.

This attack on the Shire was different because it was only Wargs. They'd bite and move onto a new target- not an Orc in sight and no casualties. The devastating fever, which was normal considering the unhealthy state of a Warg's mouth, was strangely insidious.

Gimli could see Frodo's cot from the tent flap, but every attempt to bring the Athelas to Mama was thwarted. After almost getting trampled by a few Hobbits, Fang picked Gimli up by the scruff of his armor. Crouching down low, the large dog leapt into the air. His fur brushed the top of the tent as they flew over the Hobbits, beds, and patients. Watching the surprised faces of Hobbits below, Gimli gave a thrilled, whooping yelp. The landing was surprisingly gentle as Fang walked proudly past the chuckling Dwarven guards with his tail straight in the air.

"Mama, I found it", Gimli said, handing over the large bundle of leaves to his Mama.

"Thank you, Gimli. You had no trouble? No one bothered you?" Mama said, soaking some of the healing herb into a pot of boiling water.

Gimli leaned back into his canine friend, patting the dog under his chin. "Nothing would dare attack me with Fang nearby."

Mama whispered, "Good boys" to them as she approached Frodo's bed.

"He sleeps, but it's troubled" Lady Dis said to Mama. She held Pippin and Merry on her lap, both looked exhausted, but they were trying desperately to stay awake. They had clung to Lady Dis from the moment she broke through the door of the barn.

Gimli could understand that feeling. The safest place in the world, as far as he was concerned, was near Lady Dis and Mama. They were scary to everyone, except kids.

Sam and his father were sitting in a chair by Frodo's bedside. The little one was slumped against his shoulder sobbing quietly. Frodo's injury hit Sam the hardest.

A male Hobbit with several burns limped into the tent. The three dogs started to yip happily as the Hobbit approached the Dwarven guards.

"I need to speak to whoever's in charge here", he growled, patting each of the dogs. His eyes scanned the injured Hobbits in the tent until they landed on Frodo and the other Hobbitlings. At a gesture from Lady Dis, the Dwarven guards stood aside to allow the injured Hobbit.

"Farmer Maggot!" Sam's Father exclaimed, moving out of his chair to help the injured Hobbit into it. With a small nod, Farmer Maggot greeted Lady Dis as Mama started to tend to his wounds.

"With the Mayor dead, leadership of the Shire falls to the Hobbit with the most land. Despite Lobelia's land grab, Farmer Maggot is still the next in line." Sam's father explained, putting Sam on the bed while he helped Mama.

An inelegant snort escaped the Farmer at hearing this, "I didn't farm the land for political reasons- I farmed it to provide food for our people. But since I am the leader now, I need to acknowledge what has happened. The Shire is no more."

Lady Dis stared at the Hobbit with grudging respect. Gimli had no idea what the Farmer was talking about because they were standing in the Shire. Of course the Shire still existed.

"Surely, the Shire will recover. We have the best farmers in the world, yourself included. It's not the first time the wolves have barked at our door, nor will it be the last", Sam's Father said.

"The ground is burnt beyond repair. What will you do?" Dis asked to Farmer Maggot, all the while glancing at Mama. Those two often spoke without words. It was usually fun to watch them, as they sometimes made funny faces, at the same time.

Farmer Maggot took one of the Athelas leaves that still had a flower. Moving closer to Lady Dis, the farmer dug a small hole in the ground. Dropping the flower into the ground and covering up the hole with the displaced dirt; Gimli watched in awe as the Farmer waved his hand over the ground. Slowly, a plant started to grow. First the leaves, then the flowers: the plant continued until it was in full bloom, with enough Athelas leaves to help everyone in the tent.

"You can do magic?" Gimli asked, in awe.

Living in the mountains, dwarves could manipulate metals and gems to make the greatest of armor and weapons. The downfall of this sort of life was that dwarves didn't know the first thing about growing food. Hunting game and trading with elves and Men were the only methods for dwarves to get food.

"Hobbit farmers know the land like a Dwarf knows the stone. Rebuilding the farms would be easy, but the enemy knows where we are. They know we are defenseless here. We are farmers, not warriors. There is no doubt in my mind that if the Orcs and Wargs do not kill us, Men will. Every year, they take more liberties. Lobelia is just this generation's patsy."

"You cannot stay here, then", Mama said, wrapping the last bandage on the farmer's arm before handing out the new Athelas to the rest of the caregivers inside the tent. "But the land around the mountain will be a challenge, even for you. If your people will supply the Lonely Mountain with food, the Hobbits will forever be protected by their Dwarven friends."

The Farmer sighed and sat back in his chair, "The Hobbits will join your caravan. We'll grow food for you; not as slaves, but as allies. A symbiotic relationship that no one will break."

Placing Pippin and Merry on the bed, who looked overjoyed to go on an adventure, Lady Dis reached across Frodo's bed and shook hands with Farmer Maggot.

"Agreed" she said, before collapsing in a heap by Frodo's bed. Her armor moved enough in the fall to show a vicious Warg bite, the skin surrounding it looking angry and infected.

Gimli and the Hobbitlings were frozen in terror until he heard Mama mutter under her breath, "Hubris, thy name is Durin".

Tauriel watched in horror as Legolas ran off the edge of the cliff. There was nothing she could do but stand there as he fell. With all of the changes in the forest, both of them should've been more aware, but being chased by spiders the size of a horse proved...distracting.

"Mellon!" she yelled.

A large tree branch reached out over the edge of the cliff and wrapped around Legolas' waist just as a booming voice said "The world continues to move when you're in your shell, silly turtle."

Looking all around, Tauriel couldn't tell where the voice was coming from- there was no one. The horrible sound of the spiders was getting closer, however.

Several of them cleared the forest and surrounded her. Backing up was not an option as she stood at the very edge of the cliff. The ground beneath her started to fall away. Grabbing at a nearby tree limb, Tauriel could feel the tree limb moving under her hands as it gripped back.

Several roots shot up out of the ground directly under the spiders, piercing the disgusting creatures. They made a horrible gurgling, choking sound before falling to the ground, dead.

A sigh of relief escaped her. It was only then that Tauriel saw their rescuer. A large tree began turning, slowly bringing Legolas from over the cliff and wrapping more branches around him to secure the squirming elf.

"While I appreciate you saving our lives, would you mind putting me down now?" Legolas said. After a short pause, almost as an afterthought, he said "And I'm not a turtle."

"No" said the tree.

With a frown on her face, Tauriel asked, "No, you won't put him down, or 'No, he is a turtle?'"

"Yes"

"I think I'd prefer the spiders" Legolas murmured. Before Tauriel could admonish him, for Ents were not know for understanding sarcasm or rhetorical questions, a strange wheezing sound came from the tree and most of the branches began trembling. Legolas, as an unwilling passenger, looked terrified as the tremors shook him for a moment before the sound stopped.

"What's happening?" Legolas asked, still clinging to the branches that only moments before he'd been trying to escape.

Slowly, unsure of the answer, Tauriel answered, "I think...it's laughing." A small smile crossed her face as the top of the tree swayed back and forth, nodding.

"It's been centuries since I've spoken. You'll forgive me if I need practice" the deep voice said, as several more branches reached for Tauriel. She fought against her natural instinct to duck away and allowed the tree to pick her up, level with Legolas' branches. "Let us move away from here, Little Turtles. Dead spiders are most unpleasant the longer one stands next to them."

The large tree began to slowly approach the edge of the cliff. To their surprise, it didn't stop at the edge, but started to walk down the cliffside, slow and steady. It was terrifying to be dangling in the branches as the roots dug new footholds as it "walked".

"Where are you taking us? And for that matter, what do we call you, our most courageous friend?" Tauriel asked. Legolas looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, no doubt questioning her attempt at flattery. She returned his look with one of her own, saying without words to follow her lead in this. At his small nod, she knew he would.

When she was little, her Grandmother would tell her all sorts of stories. They were wonderful tales about old magic. How the elves used to have an intimate connection with the forest they inhabited. Everything in the forest had a life, a spirit. Back then, the trees of the forest were alive and healthy, constantly moving and talking. The elves who followed the old ways would respect the power and beauty, and it, in turn, would protect the elves.

Grandmother never wanted her to be a warrior, but to explore the limits of her magic and surpass them. Sadly, Tauriel had been so focused on being the 'Captain of the Guards' that she rarely thought of magic and those old stories. She was startled to realize that it'd been centuries since a tree spoke in the Greenland Forest.

But, judging by the way the tree preened at being called courageous, Tauriel knew following her instincts had been the right choice.

"I am Treebeard, Little Turtle."

"We are grateful to you, Treebeard. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. This is my friend and protector, Tauriel."

After Legolas finished speaking, Treebeard's branches suddenly tightened, the limbs moving both elves closer to the trunk. The roots clung to the side of the cliff, still several feet above the tree line of the valley below. Before the grip could become painful, Treebeard stopped pulling on them.

"Listen to me, Little Turtles, because I'll only say this once", Treebeard said, the deep voice was lowered, barely heard beyond his branches. "When we're near other trees, you must never say that you are elves, and especially that you're the 'Son of Thranduil."

"Why?"

With a deep sigh, the tree was unmoving for a long, tense moment. Looking at Legolas, she could see him calling on every ounce of patience he had. The Prince was not known for patience, but he seemed to realize that angering Treebeard was unwise.

"Every forest has an Ent-wife. The Ents will follow her like a queen to a beehive. When the dragon came to the mountain, the Ent-wife of this forest wanted to move as far from the fire-breathing monster as possible. Your Father implored her to reconsider. He didn't wish to uproot his people. When she refused, King Thranduil placed a terrible spell upon the trees of this forest, making us immobile. My brethren are not happy with the elves."

Tauriel wanted to argue, claiming that the king would never do such a terrible thing. Elves were supposed to protect the forest. The Ent-wife wanted to move the forest in order to protect her people. An Elven King would never cast such a terrible spell, taking away the will of the forest. But as much as Tauriel wanted to protest, she also knew in her heart that Treebeard wasn't lying.

Knowing this and speaking ill of her King, however, were two very different things. Staring at Legolas, she could see him deep in thought. Though they had never spoken of it, his father had changed over the years. Abandoning the dwarves to their fate was just one example of the surprising and disturbing orders that King Thranduil had issued lately.

"How are you able to move if he cast this spell?" she asked.

The tree started to move again, climbing down the cliffside, passing the top of the tree line until his roots finally clutched the floor of the forest below.

"Someone has changed the spell: releasing some trees and moving others until they're exactly where they should not be."

Thank you for not being cryptic, Tauriel thought.

"Where they should not be?" Legolas repeated.

Instead of answering, Treebeard asked, "Do you know why I call both of you 'turtles'?"

"No", Tauriel answered as Legolas shook his head. She watched in amazement as several trees, especially the smaller ones, moved out of the way so Treebeard could pass by. Several of the them would move their branches until the very tip of a limb would touch a branch on Treebeard. Grandmother had described this as a greeting that trees give to Fangorn- Guardian of the forest. She was so shocked at realizing that Treebeard was one of these warrior trees that she almost didn't hear his answer.

"For centuries, your people have hid, safe and secure in your home, never venturing outside of the forest. Hiding in the dark is all well and good, until it's not. So unaware, you don't even realize that someone has thrown your shell into the stew."

The giant tree cleared the forest, approaching the river that usually carried the barrels of wine back to the human settlement. "Look around, Little Turtles. Tell me what you see. What does the world look like outside of your shell?" Treebeard bellowed, frightening several birds in the forest to give flight.

"Elves don't usually travel down the river. These trees don't look familiar so we're nowhere near home" Legolas said, speaking aloud as he continued to scan the area.

It was only when Legolas looked at her confused face that he followed her line of sight. He gasped as he saw what Tauriel was starring at- the river bend. She could tell in that moment that he, too, knew exactly where they were.

The curve of the river was the perfect location for capturing the barrels. A net was pulled taut across the entire width of the river. Usually Girion's heir would travel the river daily to collect the barrels.

Bard the Bowman was a widower with children to support. It was a sad but well-known fact he wasn't a wealthy man. As he was paid per barrel, something was definitely wrong. The net was so filled with empty barrels that it looked ready to burst. There were dozens!

"Bard would never allow this many barrels to go unclaimed" Tauriel said.

Legolas also looked worried, "Perhaps something happened to him or he moved to another settlement of Man?"

"None of the people in Lake-town are wealthy. Someone would have taken over for Bard as a barrel-collector. No, Mellon. Something has happened to Lake-town."

Treebeard moved down the river, heading towards the lake. "This is only the beginning, Little Turtle. Your shell is no longer safe, especially at night."