The wind had shifted into the northeast, and as their march progressed, the temperature dropped and the clouds fled in tatters. At first there were occasional stars, then great lakes of them within shoals of cloud, and at last the sky was completely clear, the stars hard and clear in the cold night.

"Ah, the Trumpet," said Legolas, gazing upward as he paced. Strider ranged far ahead of them, and Gandalf had rearguard; the hobbits (with Bill the Pony), Dwarf, Elf, and Boromir walked in a more-or-less tight knot.

"You hear a trumpet?" said Merry, furrowing his brow.

Legolas smiled. "No, I see the Trumpet--there, in the sky. It is like a picture, drawn within the stars."

"Ah, a constellation," said Frodo, wiping the condescension from Legolas's face. Merry turned a guffaw into a cough at Frodo's reprimanding glance. "Where is it?"

Legolas pointed to the southwest. "There. You see the bright star that gleams so very blue? That is the Mouthpiece. Then there are two stars for the length of the pipe, and a triangle which makes up the bell. We have many tales about the Trumpet--it is a very auspicious... constellation." He smiled at Merry and Frodo, who both flushed and smiled back. "It is the Trumpet which is blown as the hunt begins, or when those who are loved come home. And as it rises in the east and wheels around to the west, so move the Elves, from Middle-earth to the Undying Lands."

Pippin opened his mouth to speak, but Frodo shook his head at him and quiet overtook the band of travellers again, broken only by the steady footfalls of Bill the Pony, Gimli, and Boromir, the hobbits and Elf moving ever silently.

"The Dwarves call it the Divining Rod," said Gimli after another hundred steps or so. "The triangle makes up the two parts of the rod which the water-finder holds in her hands, and the three stars in a row are the divining stick, which dips down when water is near."

"In her hands?" inquired Merry.

"Oh, yes," Gimli said expansively. "It is always the Dwarven women who divine for water, and there are none so skilled at it as they. In the darkness of the mines it is vital to know where water lurks--sometimes because you must get to it, and sometimes because you must avoid it. Our women use divining rods of willow and they are never mistaken."

"We have yet another name for that star picture in Gondor," said Boromir, unexpectedly interrupting this discourse. He was usually silent during their nighttime journeys, marching tirelessly but wordlessly wherever he was needed--on rearguard, or beside the hobbits as now, or at the front with Aragorn or Gandalf.

"What do you call it, sir?" said Pippin politely, when the others appeared to be struck dumb.

"It is the Lily, a harbinger of spring. It begins to be visible at night when the trees and grasses are greening, and we love it much. When the year begins to turn, the lilies blossom along the Anduin and in the pots set upon every doorstep in Minas Tirith. The men tend them, and just before the weather grows warm, they give them to their lady-loves."

"That is a good custom," Legolas said. He noticed the hobbits looking at one another. "Do hobbit lads not give flowers to their loves?"

"You are all--" Pippin started in his high voice, then sprawled and cursed, looking over his shoulder at Sam, who gazed innocently away as though he had not just shoved the young hobbit off-balance.

"Pippin, how clumsy you are," Frodo said loudly, stooping to help him up and whispering something into his pointed ear as he did so. Pippin wrinkled his nose and looked rebellious, and Merry's shoulders shook with held-in laughter as they walked on.

"Are you all right?" asked Legolas.

Pippin glanced sullenly at Frodo, then over his shoulder at Sam, who idly pulled Bill's reins through his fingers, making a loop of the ropes. "Yes, I am fine." Gimli, Legolas, and Boromir all looked skeptically at the hobbits; they had been together only a week or so, and they did not know, as Gandalf might have, exactly what mischief of Pippin's the older hobbits were suppressing, but something was obviously afoot.

They marched on for a little while, and Gimli resumed his lecture on the virtues of Dwarven women, leading Legolas to look sidelong at him and sigh, very quietly.

Suddenly a scuffle broke out among the halflings. Pippin dodged Frodo and danced ahead, giggling. "We have a different name for those stars!" he chirruped, and Frodo stopped trying to grab him, shoulders sagging in defeat. Sam, who had leapt forward at the young Took, retrieved Bill's lead rope and went back to his steady pace, looking thunderous. Merry had not even pretended to try to stop his cousin; he was grinning wickedly as he walked.

"And what do they signify to the Shirefolk?" asked Gimli, grinning in anticipation.

Pippin continued to hop along before them all, walking backward to face his audience and clearly delighted to have their full attention. "Well," he said wisely, "the books call it the Crocus, and it's a sign of spring, as you said." He cocked his head at Boromir, who looked amused and nodded. "But mostly we call it the Naughty Lass."

Frodo sighed gustily, obviously trying to discourage Pippin from going on, but even the non-hobbits of the Fellowship knew by now that this was a vain hope. Gimli even prompted him: "And why do you call it the Naughty Lass?"

Pippin's whole face crinkled with barely suppressed glee. "Well, the four top stars are her body, do you see, and the triangle is her skirt. And at the beginning of the night, her skirts are all down and proper, and then, as the night gets late and the stars circle to the west--"

"Thank you, Pippin, I am sure they can draw their own conclusions!" Frodo interrupted.

"--then her skirts go up and over her head!" Pippin's giggles bubbled over like the waters of a fountain, and Merry finally let loose and laughed with him. Sam was blushing even as his lips twitched. Frodo glared at his young cousin but could not suppress a grin at last.

Boromir laughed heartily, surprising them all (and pleasing Pippin, who grinned back at him unabashedly); Legolas looked merry; Gimli chortled for a good while.

The laughter died away, leaving them all a bit warmer for it, and the journey continued quietly again, though the seven who walked together all wore smiles now in the clear starlight.

"I wonder what else we shall find which is different among ourselves?" Legolas murmured, as if to himself.

Gimli, stumping stolidly along near him, answered: "There is no telling, of course, but I begin to suspect we have more in common than I once would have believed possible." Legolas thought he caught the gleam of a smile through the great beard, and he smiled back with pleasure.

"I am certain you are right," he replied.