[*Varda*]

The trap-cart trundled down the road towards the Grey Havens, then onto the Shire. Serin looked around him with interest, curious about the strange new lands that lay about him. This was indeed a big change from the stone halls of the Ered Luin, where dwarves mined deep in search of precious materials. He could only wonder why he had not travelled before.

Mikhelm sat beside him, a grumpy look on his face. He still could not understand the point of the dwarves becoming acquainted with the world around them. His friends Fili and Kili had died after leaving the safety of the Ered Luin, and he had never seen Balin again, last hearing he had left for Moria.

Theron called to them from his comfortable seat in the back.

“Make more speed, my friends. We want to reach the Havens by later today! We must make haste to reach Minas Tirith, we are the furthest away. It would not look well if we were late, would it?”

Serin didn’t respond, but only urged the ponies on a little faster.