In Mist & Shadow
by North-took

When Merry was a child, he'd been dared to sneak into the Old Forest. The trees closed in behind him, obliterating his path home, and in his terror he forgot how to breathe. Every step was an agony of fear. Thirty paces beyond the tree line, he broke and ran back, even though he'd promised to go fifty. He remembered wildly running until his chest burned and someone grabbed him by the shoulder. It was Frodo, puzzlement and concern in his face. It was only then that he realized he was almost to the Hall door.

Never since that day had Merry felt his blood chill as it did now. Not even when he'd been caught by Old Man Willow. But this place... it leeched away the heat of his body and hinted at possibilities beyond mere death. Ahead of him, the others, even Sam, seemed to display an unnatural pallor as through they were corpses wandering the fringes of the living's lands.

As they at last neared the gap in the hills that formed the gateway out of the downs, Merry felt his unease grow rather than lessen. Even his pony's warm body felt chill now. The shadows seemed even more threatening. Sometimes they seemed to move and shift out of the corner of his eye though whenever he turned his head to face them all was still.

"Come on! Follow me!" Frodo's voice cut through the oppressive silence. Merry tried to follow him, but the shadows detached themselves from their proper hiding places and encircled him like insects drawn toward lamp light. His pony froze a moment, as Merry tried to calm him he was thrown off. He felt and heard rather than saw the pony flee into the mists.

"Sam! Pippin! Merry!" Frodo's sounded thin and distant. Merry tried to reply, especially as his own name was called, but his words strangled in his throat. The shadows were pulling away from the forms they concealed like gauze wrappings being removed from wounds. He closed his eyes as something icy touched his bare hand. Merry found himself suddenly glad of the cold haze washing over his senses. His hearing lingered longest. The last thing he heard before blackness enclosed him completely was his cousin's cries, so faint his words might have existed only in his own mind.