LEAVING LÓRIEN

Chapter 3 -- Pippin

Merry drew a map for me on the ground and showed me where we are. We’re already so far from home I can scarcely believe it. Have any other hobbits ever been this far from the Shire? No, we would have heard about it. Up on that pass, that freezing place, have any other hobbits ever been up that high? And so far down, down deep in Moria… but I don’t want to think about that.

Merry says not to worry about the boats, so I won’t. It will be wonderful not to have to carry our packs, not to walk and walk and walk for awhile, to let the boats carry us. I wonder how far we’re going. Do they miss us back home? I wonder where they think we’ve gone to.

It’s so nice here, everyone has been so nice. Sleeping on soft cushions again instead of the hard ground. So much food, whenever we want it. That’s helped Frodo a lot, I can tell. He looks so much better now, not nearly so thin. And not nearly so scared. It’s taken all of us awhile not to jump at every sound, not to whirl about and wonder what new danger is near us.

It’s been so peaceful, I wish we could stay. How long have we been here? Until last night I nearly forgot where we were going, what’s ahead for us. Is it much farther? Will I be any use to Frodo at all?

So many Elves, so much music, even if it’s been kind of sad-sounding music. They’re sad about Gandalf. And other things, I think. I wish I could understand the singing. Strider translates some for us, and even Frodo can understand a lot. Legolas hasn’t been around much to translate, but that’s okay. He’s probably heard about this place all his life and can’t get enough of exploring it. I’ve learned a little Elvish, though, we all have. It’s awfully pretty. I wish I had paid more attention in Rivendell, to Elvish and maps and what everyone was talking about. Rivendell seems so far away, I was such a child then.

I don’t feel like a child anymore.

** TBC **