Sigh of the Sea

Pippin sat on the soft wool rug covering the floor of Bilbo's room at Rivendell. The Fellowship was due to depart Rivendell in less than a week and the Took realized he would miss the old hobbit. He had been too young to know Bilbo well from the Shire and it was pleasant to find someone who could explain things to him in hobbit terms.

"It's really quite astounding how much you resemble my uncle Isengar," Bilbo mused as he studied Pippin's face. The morning light pooled around Bilbo's feet, highlighting well-brushed snowy fur and a spider web of wrinkles. He smiled wistfully. "It's a difficulty of the old, living in the past."

"He went to sea in his younger days, didn't he?" Pippin always recalled his more interesting relations. Isengar died in 1360, and though Pippin's father Paladin knew him quite well, Isengar seldom discussed his adventures. Pippin wished his father had been able to discover further details of his grand uncle's journey, but Isengar was discouraged from speaking of such things with the young. Even the majority of Tooks tended to frown on adventuring and the family hushed up the actions of any relations who felt the need to venture beyond the Shire.

Pippin had long known he shared that peculiar restlessness found in adventurous Tooks with his father and older sister Pervinca, even if neither of them had ever ventured far from well trod paths. They would understand his leaving. He was less certain of Pearl and Pimpernel. His oldest two sisters planted their roots deep in Shire soil and puzzled over those wanting to move past familiar borders. His mother, born a Banks, would never understand. If he returned home in one piece, Pippin believed she would eventually forgive him. Eglantine could never remain angry long with her only son.

Bilbo's voice returned him to the here and now. "Indeed he did," the old hobbit confirmed. His look was the distant one often seen on Shire Gaffers and Gammers. "Gandalf told me that Isengar journeyed to the sea because he didn't believe water so vast could exist. He brought back a curved shell that somehow captured the sound of the sea. When I was a lad he let me listen, the sea is a kind of rumbly sigh that sinks into ones bones."

"I've always wanted to visit the sea," the younger hobbit sighed. He had never told anyone, but his interest in the sea was bound to a strange feeling of loss – as though the sea took something dear from him. Perhaps, if he saw the sea he could recapture whatever it was that had gone missing.

"Perhaps you will," Bilbo said. "When I was your age I never imagined I'd see the Lonely Mountain."

"The elves must live lots in the past." Pippin said. He found it difficult to fathom living for centuries, much less multiple ages.

"Not as much as you might think, they don't age as we do and death isn't as common among them."

"Elves don't die?"

"Elves may die by choice or violence," an elegant voice answered. Both hobbits turned to see Elrond's daughter, the lady Arwen, standing in the doorway. Bilbo bowed with grace and Pippin awkwardly copied him. "But when my people die, we are still restrained. Mortals may pass beyond the confines of the world."

"To where?" the Took was still young enough to believe that others could answer all of his questions if only he matched the questions to the right people.

"Even the wisest are unable to answer," Arwen answered. For a moment, it seemed that would be her answer; but then she embroidered on it a bit. "It is said mortals go beyond the circles of the world."

Pippin remembered Strider's story of the elf-maid who wed Beren One-hand. "But didn't one elf lady really die?"

Arwen's smile was breathtaking and filled the room with light. Accustomed to the reaction others had to her ageless beauty, Bilbo hid a grin as he noted the admiration in the young Took's face. Arwen, of course, was far too much the diplomat to mention it. "My ancestress, Luthien, chose to follow her mortal husband Beren in life and beyond death. Of all the firstborn, only Luthien has died indeed."

Pippin nodded. "I suppose it must be a bother to live forever."

Arwen's laughter was akin to the chiming of bells. "Not all mortals concur with your assessment, Master Took!"