in which the witch of the wilds has spent her whole life avoiding the prophecised true king of gondor until he shows up on her doorstep with four hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, a warrior and an old wizard with a sparkle in his eyes and asks her to join t...
I AM NOT A CREATURE THAT WAS BORN. I AM A FIRE THAT WAS SET FREE.
- moss angel the undying, sea-witch vol 2: girldirt angelfog.
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THE FURTHER down the mountain, the less white everything is. It goes from high-risk snow to an almost empty grey-brown that sticks to Yseult's cloak. It's all she can see in the rising of stone around her. It is not nearly as beautiful as the Forest, with its towering trees that hang overhead, blossoming flowers growing over every inch of bark and leaf, grass crunching beneath her feet when she runs. Following the rest of the Fellowship past dark, murky stone makes her miss it more than anything.
Gandalf, leading the pack towards the doorway to the Mines, calls on Frodo to come and help him over a staggering part of the mountain. The wizard tucks the hobbit beneath his arm and pretends to struggle, voices low. She pretends not to notice that he is faking the stumble of his feet, knowing him much better than an old man who cannot even pass over mountainscapes.
Their conversation pauses as she passes by, holding her hand out to Samwise to help him jump over a stone that juts out of the earth, bigger even than him. He tumbles a little over the top, but she catches him gently in her arms and rights him on his feet, earning a hearty laugh from the hobbit and his fellow friends who watched from just behind.
"Be careful you four," she warns, even though Frodo is no longer watching them and instead looks worried at Gandalf's words. Something tears at her heart. The ring is already having an effect on them even if they do not know it, something grows between them, holding them at arm's length, begging to tear them apart.
It scares her more than most. She has seen the destruction it has wrought first hand. She does not dare to witness it again.
"Look," cries Merry, climbing over the stone, "I don't need any help. I'm the mightiest hobbit in the–" He is cut off when his feet give away and he goes tumbling to the ground at Yseult's feet, kicking up dust into his mouth that he chokes on when trying to spit it out. Pippin, trying desperately to climb without Boromir's help, starts to laugh loudly, clutching at the stone to keep himself upright.
Yseult's eyes roll half-heartedly, knowing the hobbits' good nature is what is keeping them from succumbing to the evil workings of the ring. The rest might not know it, but if it weren't for the two trouble-makers and Samwise's extraordinary good soup, they might have already fallen to the dark forces at work. Then they would all be in much more trouble than they ever believed they would be.
"Up you get." She takes a hold of the hood of Merry's cloak and pulls him to his feet. He's covered in dirt and dust from the very top of his curly head to the patches of hair on his feet. She kneels in front of him and starts to dust him off with his hands, smiling despite herself, knowing that her stopping to do this is holding them back for a few minutes. "Look at you. Look what happens when you show off."
