The Smell of Elves

‘Have you often been to Rivendell?’ said Frodo.

‘I have,’ said Strider. ‘I dwelt there once, and I still return when I may. There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace, even in the fair house of Elrond.’

Strider’s voice trailed off into broody silence, and he quickened his pace. The hobbits glanced at each other.

“That Strider is nearly as close as Gandalf is,” Merry whispered to Sam, who nodded in agreement. From his perch on the pony Frodo involuntarily rubbed his shoulder as his thoughts drifted to Bilbo. He felt certain that they were travelling on the same road his uncle had taken so long ago. It seemed that his own adventure had turned more dangerous already…

“Rivendell must be a lovely place,” Pippin said, his clear, cheerful voice interrupting Frodo’s gloom. Frodo shook his head, ridding himself of his thoughts, and smiled at Sam and Merry, both of whom were watching him in concern. Pippin was watching him too, and grinned before running ahead to trail behind Strider, his small feet trying desperately to catch up. “Is it, Strider? And what do elves smell like?”

Merry snorted back a laugh, Frodo shook his head in dismay, and Sam’s eyes grew round with horror as they awaited Strider’s reaction.

For his part, the man stopped so short that Pippin nearly collided with him. “What did you say?” he asked, turning to peer down at the young hobbit smiling guilelessly up at him.

“I asked you about Rivendell. From Bilbo’s tales it seems like a lovely place, and I should like to see a grand waterfall or two,” Pippin replied. “I also wanted to know what elves smell like.”

“What they smell like? Where did you get such an idea?” Strider asked, and if his voice sounded grave and almost menacing to the other hobbits, Pippin seemed to take no notice.

“Oh, it was something Bilbo said,” he replied breezily. “I always used to ask him to tell me about his adventures before he left. He said when he saw Rivendell his first thought was, ‘Hmm! it smells like elves!’” Frodo and Merry both snickered at Pippin’s spot-on imitation of Bilbo’s voice, and even Sam smiled warily.

“But Bilbo never said just what elves smell like, and I’ve always wondered. When we met Gildor and the other elves on the road I didn’t notice if they smelled or not, but I was still recovering from seeing that Black Rider, I think. I did notice that their clothes were very clean and beautiful, the sort of clothes you wouldn’t wear on a journey, or at least, wouldn’t be able to keep clean for long. So I can’t imagine that the elves in Rivendell would smell bad.” Pippin cast an appraising eye at Strider. “Well, I thought you would know.”

Strider glared down at him for a long moment before he laughed, a rich, happy sound that transformed him from grim to quite cheerful.

“Now that is a very interesting bit of information,” Strider said. “I shall have to remember that. I know of a few in Rivendell who would find delight in such a tale, and there is a friend of mine I wish to discuss this further with. But for now, come along Master Took!” he added, clasping the hobbit’s shoulder and still grinning broadly. “Let us scout these hills while the others follow behind, and I shall tell you a little more about the elves.”

Pippin grinned back at his cousins, clearly pleased at the prospect of getting a tale out of their often quiet travelling companion, and nearly skipped off with Strider.

Merry shook his head fondly at Pippin’s retreating form and glanced up at Frodo. “He does have a way of asking questions, doesn’t he?”

“Pippin is a little too charming for his own good,” Frodo replied, smiling. The pain in his shoulder had diminished somewhat by his cousin’s antics, and not for the first time was Frodo glad that Sam, Merry and Pippin were with him. “He will make friends wherever he goes.”

Merry and Sam reclaimed their places on either side of Bill and led him along, as Frodo settled back, watching Pippin and Strider climb a large hill just ahead. It seemed Strider was telling some sort of tale, if Pippin’s wide eyes and curious expression were any indication.

The hobbits followed along in silence until at last Sam spoke.

“Mr. Frodo?”

“Yes, Sam?”

“What do elves smell like?”

*The first quote is from The Fellowship of the Ring, “Flight to the Ford,” and the second is from The Hobbit, “A Short Rest.”