Writing Wrongs with Henry Fairchild: The Fellowship Caper, Part 2

It was all I could do to remain silent and unseen. What was my assignment again? Oh, yes. I was supposed to interview Gimli. I knew he would be nearby, because I knew where I was in the story. I couldn’t move, though. I hated this part of the book. I felt rooted to the spot.

Then a curious thought sprang upon me: I couldn’t bear to watch these events play out, not while I was here and possibly able to do something about what was supposed to happen. Could I change them? I had no idea, but I had to try. I leapt to my feet. Frodo opened his eyes and stared at me in confusion as I hastened towards him. In a flash, Sting was out and pointed straight at my heart. I sort of half-noticed it and the part of my brain that was still partially asleep noted that the movie-makers had done a good job recreating this weapon, it wasn't a perfect replica, but they had been close.

“There is no time,” I shouted wildly, halting my feet but talking rapidly. “You have a grave decision to make, but you know not all the facts. Only Sam can go with you. If more of you try to go through Mordor, your task will fail, and so will the world. The others need to be free to pursue their own missions. If you and Sam do not slip away now, one of your party will fall, and the world will suffer a grave loss.”

“I do not understand,” Frodo answered. “Who are you and what do you know of my quest?”

“I know that the Fellowship is destined to end here on the banks of the Anduin. I know that even now the Ring you carry attempts to subvert your companions. You must take it with all haste and flee alone, with Sam, to Mount Doom. Go, now, before one of your companions pays the ultimate price.”

“Who are you?” he demanded again, shaking the short sword at me. I marveled at how small he really was. So short. About the same height as my 4 year old granddaughter.

“I am unimportant. Your quest is all that matters. All you need to know is that I am a friend of Gandalf’s.”

Frodo looked up at me, grim determination in his eyes. “I do not know you, but your words ring true. I will go alone. The Ring is my burden to bear.”

“Take Sam!” I urged him. “You'll not get far without Sam.”

Frodo hesitated. Then he nodded once, and turned away. He had no sooner disappeared from sight when Boromir arrived on the other side of the clearing. When he saw me, he stopped and drew his sword. His stature was far more imposing, and an air of nobility rested in every movement he made.

I held up my hands so he would see I was not armed.

“I am not your enemy,” I called out. “The Orcs you heard in the night have crossed the river. They have instructions to kidnap any Halflings they find. But they are many, and hope for the element of surprise. If you hurry, you should be able to find the others and make a stand against them. Quickly now, or all will be lost!”

Boromir stared at me suspiciously. “Are you a wizard? You are dressed in exceedingly strange clothes.”

I stared down at my very un-fantasy t-shirt and brown plaid flannel pants and grimaced. “Yes!” I shouted, deciding it was easier to just go with his first assumption. “I am Radagast the Brown! How dare you mock my wizard’s garb? Hurry! The Halflings are in danger! You must protect them!”

"Where is your staff?" he asked. "Do you know of our quest? Can you help us?"

"My staff is... somewhere safe," I said slowly. "And what do you think I'm doing right now? Go! Go save the Halflings!"

He gazed at me for another moment, then turned and raced back the way he had come. I debated, but couldn’t bring myself not to find out what happened next, so I raced after him.

We ran back to the campsite of the party, and found the others.

“Orcs!” Boromir cried. “They have crossed the river, they are after the Halflings!”

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli leaped to their feet, weapons drawn.

“Where is Frodo?” Aragorn asked.

“I do not know,” Boromir replied. “I went to find him, but could not. Where are the other Halflings? This one,” he turned and pointed at me, “says they are all in danger.”

I caught a glimpse of Sam turning and racing toward the river and smiled. That part of the story would remain intact.

“Merry and Pippin went to find mushrooms,” Legolas replied.

Even as he spoke our ears caught sudden cries mingled with the harsh voices of Orcs. The sounds emanated from the woods and the four companions stiffened, then turned as one and raced together through the trees. I followed, close behind, oblivious to the fact that I had no weapon. The branches and brambles tore at my clothes and as I raced towards the sounds of battle I had a moment to wonder when exactly it was I had gone insane. I didn’t have long to ponder the question, however, as we soon discovered our quarry.

The Orcs had surrounded Merry and Pippin, who were making a brave show of it, but also shouting for help as they stabbed at the vile creatures with their swords. Legolas began firing arrows at the Orcs, felling two of them before Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli were able to reach their ranks. Startled at the sudden attack from behind the Orcs turned to face this new threat. I saw a small group of them break off from the main group, but I was hiding behind a tree wishing I had a weapon.

The battle was intense and fierce, but in the end, the Orcs lay slain. Of Merry and Pippin, however, there was no trace except for the Hobbits’ leaf-bladed knives.

I crept nearer to hear what would happen, as the four champions discussed what they should do and where these Orcs had come from. Gimli thought the “S” they bore meant Sauron, but Boromir and Aragorn pointed out that Sauron never used that device, and none of his minions wore white... eventually concluding that something was amiss in Isengard. Of Frodo and Sam there was no sign, until they returned to the river and saw the small tracks and noticed the missing boat.

“Our choice then,” said Gimli, “is to take the remaining boat and follow Frodo, or follow the Orcs on foot. There is little hope either way.”

“Let me think!” said Aragorn.

“What is there to think about?” Boromir cried. “Frodo has taken his burden upon himself. Perhaps he will survive, perhaps he has doomed us all, but for my part I have grown exceedingly fond of the Halflings and care not to think about them in the clutches of those foul beasts we fought, whoever they serve. My heart smites me to return to Gondor, but I would not stain my heart with the dishonor of abandoning such stout comrades in the hands of the enemy. I will follow the Orcs.”

“Yes,” replied Aragorn. “You speak truly. I would have guided Frodo to Mordor and gone with him to the end; but as you say, Boromir, his fate is now out of my hands. The Fellowship has played its part. Come, leave what can be spared, we must go now!”

Boromir grinned and clapped Aragorn on the shoulder. “We shall make this such a chase as to be sung about in ballads for years to come, my friend. Just an hour ago, my heart quailed within my chest with worry for my homeland and my people... but these events have reminded me that there is strength yet to be found in men, and while I have breath I will fight against the darkness, whether it hail from Mordor or Isengard!”

They raced off into the waning day, and I stood there in my slippers and wished I had paid more attention at new employee orientation when they were explaining how to use our badges. As I wrapped my fingers around my badge, it began to pulse faintly with that same blue glow, and the world collapsed once more.

I was in my own bed once more, and The Two Towers lay open on my bed where I had left it. I flipped through it swiftly, reading a brand-new story. Shaking, I put the book down, wondering if I should be pleased or terrified at what I had done. A strange sort of elation filled my soul. I was exhausted, and fell onto my pillow... not daring to peruse what sorts of changes I had wrought on Return of the King.

I was almost asleep before it occurred to me that I had neglected to ask Gimli any questions...