<<Frodo: Where are you taking us?>>
<<Strider: Into the wild.>>
<<Merry: <to Frodo> How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?>>
<<Frodo: I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler.>>
<<Merry: He's foul enough!>>
<<Frodo: We have no choice but to trust him.>>
<<Sam: But where is he leading us?>>
<<Strider: To Rivendell, Master Gamgee, to the House of Elrond.>>
<<Sam: Did you hear that? Rivendell! We’re going to see the Elves!>>
<Snow is starting to fall and cover the ground. After a while, the Hobbits pause, pulling cookware and food from their packs. Strider looks back at them.>
<<Strider: Gentlemen, we do not stop till nightfall.>>
<<Pippin: What about breakfast?>>
<<Strider: We’ve already had it.>>
<<Pippin: We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?>> <Strider walks away.>
<<Merry: Don't think he knows about second breakfast Pip.>>
<<Pippin: <alarmed> What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them doesn’t he?>>
<<Merry: I wouldn't count on it.>>
<From over the bushes, Strider tosses an apple and Merry catches it. He hands it to Pippin and pats him on the shoulder. Another apple flies through the air, hitting Pippin in the head. He looks up bewildered.>
<<Merry: <impatiently> Pippin!>>
<The party slowly make their way through increasingly rough country. It becomes darker and the forest gives way to flat marshland, which they eventually have to cross. All go up to their knees in the sludgy mire. The conditions are made worse by an army of midges which attack them all unmercifully. Merry slaps despairingly at the cloud of pests hovering around him.>
<<Merry: What do they eat - when they can't get Hobbit?>>
<Behind him, Pippin stumbles and falls into the mire, measuring his length. It is a miserable journey at this stage. Eventually they make camp for the night on the boggy ground. Strider manages to hunt and kill a deer which he brings back for their supper. The Moon rises as the hobbits fall asleep. Strider is keeping watch by the fire. He hums a tune softly to himself:>
<<Strider (singing):
Tinúviel elvanui,
Elleth alfirin ethelhael
O hon ring finnil fuinui
A renc gelebrin thiliol.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her night-dark hair,
And arms like silver glimmering.>>
<Frodo wakes, hearing Aragorn's song. He lifts himself up and stares at the Ranger.>
<<Frodo: Who is she? This woman you sing of?>>
<<Strider (sadly): Tis the Lay of Lúthien. The Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal.>>
<<Frodo: What happened to her?>>
<<Strider: <looks way> She died.>>
<He sighs. His face bears a hint of tears. He turns back to Frodo.>
<<Strider: Get some sleep, Frodo.>>
<Saruman is in the Chamber of the Palantir at Isengard. His hand is suspended over the Stone, and a fiery light is in its depths. The eye of Sauron appears within the Palantir. Saruman, eyes closed, appears to be communicating with Sauron by pure thought.>
<<Voice of Saruman: The power of Isengard is at your command, Sauron, Lord of the Earth.>>
<<Voice of Sauron: Build me an army worthy of Mordor!>>
<Saruman is sitting on a chair in one of his chambers, his arms wound about him. He looks haunted. Three Orcs file into the room.>
<<First Orc: What orders from Mordor my Lord? What does the Eye command?>>
<<Saruman: We have work to do!>>
<Huge trees are being felled, their creaks and groans like cries of pain as they are brought crashing down by groups of Orcs under Saruman's orders. On the high pinnacle of Orthanc, Gandalf, dishevelled and scarred from his battle with Saruman, wakes painfully, the cold rain slashing down, the creaking of dozens of felled trees heard far below. He slowly pushes himself up and moves cautiously to the edge and peers down at the activity surrounding the tower.>
<<Orcs: The trees are strong, my Lord. Their roots go deep.>>
<<Saruman: Rip them all down!>>
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