The Hobbits by Gilthalion

[Mithadan]

Chapter XXIII

THE LONG MARCH

The very next day, messengers were sent to the King's allies in Rhovanion east of the Misty Mountains, and to all whom could carry weapons in the muster of Eriador, west of the Misty Mountains. Aragorn hoped to bring enough strength to a sudden siege of Mount Gundabad to force the goblins to a war they could not win. Even the hobbits of the Shire could be counted on to do their part. In fact, when King Strider began discussing with Thain Peregrin and Master Brandybuck the role of the hobbits, he was met with a resistance that little surprised him.

"Yes, we can indeed help to provision the army for the siege," said old Pippin. "But we can do more, besides!"

"That's right!" chimed in Merry. "My son will organize cartage from the Shire to Bree. But there are plenty of young ones who would gladly take their share of the danger as well. Now, if we must review the martial history of the Shire, let me start with the last invasion of goblins back in the days of..."

"No! That is quite all right!" laughed Aragorn. "You need NOT recount the daring exploits of halflings past and present! Tell me, what strength you can offer me in the field that helps me more than provisioning the men and elves of Eriador?"

"I admit, that is quite a lot to do in itself," said Pippin. "But I think that, in addition, my son, Faramir, can muster a fair regiment of sharp-eyed hobbits with Tookish bows, such as my grandsons wield."

"Aye! And strong fast ponies to carry them, such as my granddaughter rides," said Merry. "Buckland's breed has been improved somewhat from the stock of Rohan." The old hobbit had brought Stybba home with him from the great War, a gift of old King Theoden, and the noble pony had enjoyed a long and productive life as the most sought after stallion in the meadows of the Shire. Merry took a deep breath and began to lecture the king on the worth of Buckland ponies.

Aragorn laughed, and prevented the old hobbit from embarking under full sail upon a recounting of the careful breeding history of the Shire ponies by agreeing to let the worthies of the Shire be included in the great campaign.

"But, I think that they shall have the honor of protecting the Queen, rather than serving in the front lines of the siege," said the King.

At first, the old hobbits were of a mind to protest this, but when they realized that Queen Arwen herself insisted upon accompanying the host, they saw that her protection was a needful duty and one not to be despised. This was news that at first caused some consternation throughout the host. Yet, it also became a great source of pride when it became known that Arwen Undomiel would not return to Rivendell until Alatar the Black had been found and cast down.

"For I have seen that there is no safety for my son in Rivendell," she had said to the king, "at least no greater safety than may be found surrounded by the hosts of war, for the days of the secrecy of Elves are ended and the days of the might of Men have begun. I will trust to the strength of my husband who is with me in this new age, rather than to the wisdom of former days, for my father abides now in the distant West and my son's destiny is here."

"May I never fail you again," Aragorn said.

"My Hope has never failed," Arwen answered.

It was agreed that Lord Celeborn would lead the Lorien elves who had come with him to Rivendell, and that these would be the archers of the host. A cavalry of rangers and elves were to be led by Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond. From Fornost came another company of troops, less noble and skilled, but strong and fierce, was formed from recruited Breemen and folk of Dunland who had come in recent years to work on the towers and walls of new strongholds and to settle the northern lands. It was hoped that many more would come from the teeming population of Dunland with the promise of new homesteads. If they were settled in the region north of Rhudaur, then the Bree-folk would be relieved of a surfeit of immigrants. As is often the case in matters of war, long planned policies can sometimes be brought forward to serve many causes. Two birds would be killed with one stone, as the saying goes. The participation of the Dunlenders in the war against the orcs would make the northern reaches safe for their immigration. But there would likely be terrible battles fought first. Aragorn would be Captain over all and planned to fight wheresoever he was most needed, wielding Anduril, the Flame of the West, the sword of Elendil reforged.

The Council deemed that there was strength enough on the plain to begin the siege, and that the other forces could follow them to Gundabad as the muster continued. The way was long, and the summer and autumn would be all too short before winter in the North made the siege as hard for the besiegers as for the besieged. The King hoped that a decisive battle could be forced before the months of ice and snow decided matters for them.

The march to the north in the high summer was at first warm, then hot as the season burned more fiercely. Even so, it was not unpleasant, for in the northern reaches the mornings were cool and the Misty Mountains rising on their right hand were beautiful. Many streams flowed from the mountains, watering the verdant lands. Here and there, old ruins could be seen, for the land had been settled once upon a time. Great meadows promised abundant pasture for flocks and lush fields for grain. While the hobbits thought the slopes of the valleys steep, and the soil too stoney, the long forsaken lands seemed fair and lovely to the eyes of the rugged Dunlenders. The men laughed happily as they planned with one another how they might settle in just such a place, when the goblins had been destroyed. King Strider's kinsmen, the Dunedain, looked upon the lands and the occasional ugly ruins and thought of how an evil folk had once lived in the region. If some murmured that their king was mistaken to put the former vassals of Saruman into lands once ruled from Angmar, then others quickly urged their more dour cousins to have more faith in the son of Arathorn and in the Dunlenders he thought worthy of trust.

The cavalry did not ride hard, for it was a long journey and a host on foot from Rivendell traveled with them. Also, it would not do to arrive too soon before the siege was begun in earnest with the muster of Eriador and of their allies from Rhovanion on the other side of the Misty Mountains. So King Elessar husbanded their strength. Even so, each day's journey was long and wearying, for the king commanded that camp be broken early and made late. As the days passed, each day started sooner and ended later but the land grew less green and more rocky, slowing the progress of the cavalry and the following host even further. Scouts rode ahead to determine the best path and also rode to either side of the great company to prevent any ambush that might have been planned. Eventually, the Mountains of Mist dwindled and a great range of mountains rose across their way to the north. The tallest peak could now be seen, Gundabad, a great jagged mass of grey stone, laden with snows that never melted. It seemed to glower malignantly at them from afar. Soon, all who looked long upon it began to feel ill at ease, so none gazed upon it for long. Their way now bent to the east between the steep slopes of a great valley as they made for this dismal destination and the pass between the Misty Mountains and the goblin infested Grey Mountains.

It was in the days of their long march north that Elediriel entered into the service of Queen Arwen as her handmaiden. I'm afraid that this made Maddie somewhat jealous of Ellie, and though they remained good friends all their long lives, I'm sorry to say that it was some little time before they were as close again as they had been before Ellie's adventure. I'm sure that you might think this unfair of Madrigal, but you must remember that she was the Beauty of the Shire, one of the magnificent Brandybucks, and was rather used to being the hobbit lass that received the most attention.

If you were a very beautiful hobbit lass (and not a little spoiled!), suddenly the least among many folk, I dare say you might not have behaved any better, even if you were as good of heart as Madrigal Brandybuck! There she was, surrounded by many mighty men, a company of ageless elves, a dwarf of great renown, and even several hobbits of proven bravery. Now it should be said that not one of these folk thought the less of Maddie, and indeed loved having the saucy girl around, whose strong personality was usually the match of her beauty, but she herself felt that she was really not much help or worth at all. So, of course, poor plain little Ellie caught a little of Maddie's envy and anger one night near the end of the northward journey, after she came back to the hobbit's camp, late for supper.

Gimli was recounting the tragic tale of the Longbeards, the great tribe of dwarves that descended from Durin himself. They were the dwarves who first found the caverns of Gundabad, and enlarged them until they became a great settlement, making many things for the woodsman, farmers, and shepherds of the ancient northlands. Ellie arrived just as Gimli began speaking of their downfall.

"Those were days of peace for our great tribe. There, in Gundabad, Durin, the great father of my people awoke, and it burns my beard to think of what that mountain has become! Better that it should fall to rubble than endure the foul presence of the orcs! But this most sacred of places was lost to us long ago. Hordes of goblins and other creatures came in those years to our mountains. Survivors perhaps, of some great wars of the Elder Days, before the intrigues of the elves brought about the Bending of the world." The old dwarf cast a twinkling eye at the wood elf nearby.

"'Intrigues!' Say rather, the valour of the Noldor," said Legolas. "My people know little enough of the causes of the wars of those elves. But it may be that the reshaping of the world was fated for reasons that began before the world itself. It is at least something that the parts played in those days by those elves is still a matter of song."

"Aye. But however much the elves may sing of such things," the dwarf continued, "dead dwarves sing no songs. We never learned the secret of the Bane of Gundabad. The goblins left no survivors."

Gimli stroked his red and silver beard and sighed. "So I could not tell Aragorn who or what it might be that hides itself from his orb, in the deeps of Gundabad, where Durin woke. But we of the Lonely Mountain have long wondered, as we strengthened our defenses, how the Longbeards fell in their stronghold to the orcs. They might have endured a long siege and outlasted such foes, in a well-defended mountain, such as Gundabad is said to have been. We still do not know the answer to that riddle, though Aragorn may have found where that answer hides!"

"Why doesn't King Strider look back to that day in the Palantir?" asked Ellie. "According to the lore, a viewer could see through the veils of Time itself."

"Why don't you suggest it, since you're over there all the time?" Maddie curtly asked.

"I hardly ever see him," Ellie answered innocently.

"He has already tried," said Gimli, not really noticing the touchiness in Madrigal's remark. "He tells me that he has seen the downfall of the Longbeards, and whatever it was, it seems to have entered the mountain that day, with the goblins in its trail, but it is something that is always shrouded from the view of that elvish device. So, to be sure of what it is, we must see it for ourselves!"

"What do you think it is?" asked Turry.

"If it were a dragon, like Smaug (curse his name!)," said Gimli, "then all the land about would have been desolated as it burned all growing things, so that nothing could approach unseen. From time to time it would have issued forth, flying with fire and destruction, to feed upon livestock and men foolish enough to live nearby. If there were a dragon there, would we not all know of it?"

"You describe a dragon like Smaug," said Legolas. "In the songs, not all dragons were the same."

"Call them drakes or worms or serpents or dragons, they are all much the same, creatures of evil and treachery! They are vain creatures that lust for gold and destruction. And dragons have top-notch brains when it comes to three things: treasure, carnage, and riddles," replied the dwarf.

"As you say," said Legolas. "I am no expert in dragonry. I hope it is not something worse."

"You mean, a balrog?" asked Furry.

"Ai!" cried Legolas. "I can still see it before us, gigantic, hideous, terrible!"

"Aye!" said Gimli. "It is my worst fear. That the Bane of Gundabad was like unto Durin's Bane! And we have not the likes of Gandalf to aid us now, and even he had nearly perished! May such a thing not be so!"

"More wine!" cried Merry, swiftly heaving his bulk up upon his sturdy old feet. "A drink to Gandalf!"

Of course, this could not be refused and all there drained a glass to the dear old wizard who had laboured through an age against the Dark Lord Sauron in those darkest of days. The conversation naturally turned, as old Merry planned, to a discussion of the Grey Pilgrim, Mithrandir, later known as Gandalf the White. They talked of his great daring, his quick temper, and his kindly regard for the little folk of the Shire.

"And he loved the pipeweed, too!" said Gimli. "Which reminds me, if one of you young scamps could spare a little, I seem to have already smoked all that I brought!"

This set the old hobbits and the twins to arguing with each other for quite a while about who had last shared with the old dwarf, and nothing would do to settle it but for them to have a contest on the spot to blow smoke rings around the fire into the moonlit sky. Gimli did not care who won or lost, but was mightily glad to get a bit of anyone's pipeweed, having reacquired his taste for the habit with a relish.

"I should not be surprised to find that the smoke of that weed shortens your lives as much as your stature!" said Legolas. "What could be finer than the warm summer breezes and the green smell of the field and forest? Sensible creatures do not breathe smoke if they can help it. And you do it on purpose!" The wood elf walked off into the darkness, saying something about cleaner air. Ellie laughed and then got up to help Maddie clear away the remains of their supper.

"Oh. Nice to see that you are not too lofty these days to help a poor scullery maid with the chores," said Maddie.

"What?" said Ellie, not expecting the sharp tone in her friend's voice. The truth was that Ellie had not seen a lot of her friend for the last few days, and was looking forward to telling her all about the little doings of Queen Arwen and of little Prince Eldarion. But Maddie was feeling hurt, for she had been very much alone through the day.

"I guess you've come a long way from that little hole in the Shire," Maddie said, dropping plates and bowls into the hot water with a little too much force. The frustrated hobbit lass was suddenly drenched.

"Here! Let me help dry you off," said Ellie, running over with a towel.

"Just leave me alone!" Madrigal sobbed, and ran away to be by herself. Ellie finished up the dishes on her own (there really weren't that many), and wondered why Maddie was so upset. Turry and Furry each looked over in that direction briefly, but were really more concerned with their ongoing smoke ring contest with the older hobbits by the fire. But Turry looked again, and saw that Maddie had gone, and that Ellie was doing the washing up herself.

"I'm going to let you hobbits off the hook," said Turry, and began walking over toward Ellie.

"I'd say HE'S already pretty well hooked," said Furry.

"Ha!" said old Pippin. "If you had half the brains of your twin brother, you'd be after that other one!"

"I'm not saying a word," said old Merry.

"I will never understand hobbits," said old Gimli, his red and silver beard wagging as he shook his head.

"You're only a dwarf, you're not expected to," said Pippin, who blew another huge and gorgeous ring of smoke into the warm air. Furry just grinned, and whistling nonchalantly, ambled off in the direction of the horses.

Without preamble, Turry took up a towel and started drying as Ellie washed, and the old hobbits continued reminiscing with the dwarf by the fire. The young hobbit asked Ellie, "What's got Maddie so upset tonight?"

"Me, I guess," said Ellie. "I've been so busy with Queen Arwen and the little prince that I haven't made much time for her. I'll try to do better."

"Humph," said Turry. "She's just mad that you were called to be the Queen's handmaiden, and she wasn't. She'll get over it, and then she'll try to make it up to you. I've seen her this way before."

"I guess so. You've known her longer than I have. But it must be a little lonely for her without another girl from home to talk to," Ellie observed. She really was trying to put herself in Maddie's shoes, as the saying goes, even though most hobbits never actually wore shoes.

It was at this point that the last bowl was dried and so Turry and Ellie between them lifted the wash pot and took it away from the camp to dump it in a place set aside for such things (a large camp must have order, after all). On the way back, they could see the entire camp laid out under the moon, with campfires twinkling under the glimmering stars. Turry shifted his grip, and took the pot in his left hand, so that his right hand was free to grasp Ellie's.

Her soft little hand pressed his, and so they walked back together, not daring even to meet one another's eyes as yet. Or at least Ellie did not dare to look up at him, her heart was pounding as if she had run a race with wolves. She hardly dared to believe it was so, that the brave and handsome Turgon Took was holding the hand of the poor little hobbit girl he had hardly seemed to notice just a year before. She squeezed his hand just to be sure she was not dreaming and he squeezed back. Finally, before they reached the camp, he stopped and made her look up.

She could not help but remember the night he had held her under the stars in the land of the Beornings, when they had thought their friends slain by orcs, how he had dried her tears and was so kindly. His pert, handsome hobbit face was smiling softly, and his dark eyes regarded her with a fondness that made her feel weak inside. He took up her hand, still held in his, and kissed the top of it, never taking his eyes from hers.

"I think you're wonderful, Elediriel Cotton. And I, uh, I, well, I just wanted you to know that," he suddenly stammered. The look in her eyes was just too much for him, and he couldn't bring himself to say more or to do more just then. But it was enough for Ellie, who felt she might have burst on the spot had he said more. He grinned awkwardly and flushed red with an unaccustomed embarrassment. He murmured something about saying goodnight to Lightning and ran the rest of the way to camp, clutching the washpot in his sturdy hand and wondering if had just made himself a fool of a Took. Ellie gazed after him, and walked slowly and dreamily back to camp wondering what life might be like as Mrs. Elediriel Took!

Such are the passions of tweenaged hobbits in love. Hobbits tended to marry rather later in life than the Big Folk, and the crushes and tentative relationships of hobbits in their irresponsible twenties were rarely acted upon and were generally discouraged by their more responsible elders. What troubles and confusions have been the result of teens and tweens in love (even among the Big Folk)! Still, it was not unheard of for True Love to be found at such an awkward age and so it was, of course, the dream of many a tweenaged hobbit lass and not a few hobbit lads.

Turry caught himself with one hand on a post and whipped into the paddock where the hobbit ponies were kept. He saw his twin brother Furry there, with Maddie, talking quietly by her pony, Cider.

"Hullo! Hullo! What's going on in here?" laughed Turry. Furry stepped back guiltily from the pretty hobbit lass, though in truth, they had only been talking and nothing more.

"Nothing that concerns you!" said Maddie, sharply. "I thought you were out with Mistress Perfect."

"Huh?" said Turry. "Uh. I'm just here to check on Lightning. Here, Furry, hold this for me." He handed his brother the washpot and began making sure that Lightning had plenty of feed and water. While doing this, he thought on how silly he must have seemed to Ellie, running off like that. He quickly finished, dashed out of the paddock to find Ellie again, and was gone. Furry and Maddie stood around uncomfortably until Turry was out of sight.

"What's the matter, anyway?" asked Furry. "What did Ellie ever do?"

"Why is everyone always making such a big deal over her?" Maddie steamed. "And why can't I be there with the Queen, too?"

Furry thought on this for a second, and though he felt that Maddie was being a little childish, he wanted her to feel better, and saw no reason why Maddie couldn't be there with Ellie. Being a most Tookish Took, Furry offered a Tookish reply, "Why don't you just ask? I'm sure Ellie would like the company and I'm sure Queen Arwen wouldn't mind."

"Oooooh! You should never ask for such a thing! You should wait until it's offered!" cried Maddie. "Boys don't understand anything!" Just then, from the corner of her eye, the angry hobbit girl saw Ellie approaching the paddock. No doubt looking for Turry. Maddie looked back at Furry and saw the washpot in his hand and a mean little inspiration struck her. Suddenly, she reached out with both hands to grab Furry's head and she said sweetly, "...but you're so wonderful to say so ...Turry!"

And with that, she kissed Furry, who stood there with both hands held out awkwardly to either side, the washpot dangling from one of them. Poor little Elediriel saw the washpot and the kiss, and heard the name "Turry," and was simply shocked! She stood there for a long second, her dreams suddenly gone. She spun about on her bare heel and ran back to the camp, crying her blue eyes out the whole way.

Furry stood there with his eyes closed and a ridiculous smile on his face, completely unaware that Ellie had come and gone. Then he suddenly opened his eyes and cried, "Turry? Hey! You called me Turry!"

"Oh! Did I?" said Maddie, already feeling bad for what she had done.

"Yes! You did!" said Furry. "Did you mean to kiss me, or my brother?"

"Oh, it hardly matters, does it? Anyway, I didn't like it, so you needn't look for another," said the lass, beginning to feel embarrassed as well as ashamed, for she did, indeed, like the kiss very much.

"Well, that's fine then!" shouted Furry, growing quite hot and angry. "I can see why the Queen wouldn't want you around!" He then threw down the washpot and stomped out of the paddock and back to camp. Maddie flung her arms around Cider's neck and wept, wishing she were home in Brandy Hall with her mother and had never come on any adventure at all.

***

"Ellie! What's wrong?" asked Turry when Ellie came back into camp, weeping.

"Ask your brother!" cried Ellie, who hurriedly snatched her few things out of the tent she and Maddie shared and grabbed her blanket.

"What did he do?" (I must say that Turry was quite perplexed!)

"I don't want to talk about it!" wailed the little blonde hobbit lass. She picked up her things and ran, still weeping, off to the tents of the Queen.

"Girls!" exclaimed Turry. Just then, Furry stomped into the camp. "What did you do to Ellie?" he asked sternly.

"What? Nothing. I haven't seen her," said Furry, glumly.

"Well she just took her things and was crying her eyes out! She said to ask you why!" cried Turry, growing angry.

"How should I know?" asked Furry, turning his own anger and hurt feelings toward his twin brother. "She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

"Well... uh... I don't know about that..." Turry stammered.

"I don't understand her or any other hobbit girl!" yelled Furry. "If you ever figure them out, I'll pay you good money to explain it to me! Good night!" And with that, Furry grabbed up his things and headed off alone to the other side of the great camp.

Turry shook his head, wondering what had gotten into his brother and Ellie. Some time later, when Turry was just getting ready to turn in, Maddie sadly passed by his tent. She had obviously been crying.

"Hey, Maddie! What's wrong with Furry and Ellie?" he asked her. For a moment, Maddie looked at him and seemed about to answer. But her big green eyes brimmed with fresh tears and she said, "Just leave me alone!" She ducked into her tent, saw Ellie's things gone, and began crying again. Turry walked over just in time to find the tent flaps snapped shut in his face.

"Everyone's gone crazy!" he muttered on the way back to his own tent. Being a fairly sensible hobbit, and realizing that he would get no answers that night, he soon closed his eyes and slept soundly until morning.

***

I'm afraid that Turry remained perplexed and got no answers that morning. It seemed that there were hot tempers all around the camp. Gimli and Legolas were not speaking to one another. Elves and rangers alike were barely civil to one another. Everyone seemed grumpy, on edge, and out of sorts. Turry decided to seek out Thain Peregrin. He found the old hobbit sitting on a large stone. On the other side of it was Master Meriadoc.

"Grandfather! I've been looking all over for you," said Turry.

"Well you might have started here and saved yourself some time," old Pippin said, unreasonably.

"Yes, sir," said Turry, trying to hold his temper. What had he done, after all? "But Grandfather, have you noticed how angry everyone is?"

"If you're talking about that old wineskin," Pippin cried, pointing at Merry, who was pointedly sitting with his back to his old friend, "then I have nothing to say!"

"Nothing to say!" cried Merry, with mock rapture. "Oh that I should be blessed to hear that old blatherskite with nothing to say!"

"You can tell that bloated bit of livestock to keep his sarcasm to himself!" said Pippin.

"You can tell that dried up old fossil you call 'Grandfather' that he wouldn't recognize sarcasm if it walked in on all fours and licked the butter off his bread!" said Merry.

Pippin retorted, "Turry, inform that fat old..."

"THAT'S ENOUGH FROM BOTH OF YOU!" yelled Turry. The two old hobbits just sat there stunned and staring at the young Took. "If you can't open your eyes and see that something is terribly wrong then I am just wasting my time! I'm going to see King Strider! Maybe he will listen!" Turry left the quarreling friends sitting and staring as he stomped off to find the king.

The camp was getting off to a very late start that morning. Various lieutenants were bringing their complaints to the king, who sat on a campstool in front of his tent with his grey head in his hands. Men and elves were shouting over one another to be heard. Many others were also gathering in a crowd around the shouting. Elladan and Elrohir were grimly glaring at one another over the king's bowed head.

"Here, you halfling! Wait your turn," ordered a stout gruff Dunlander, as Turry squeezed through the angry ring to get to the king with his concerns. Turry ducked the man's big outstretched hand as the weary ruler looked up. "King Strider!" the hobbit called.

"Not now!" said Aragorn through clenched teeth. "I have many concerns just now. Come back later."

"But something's wrong!" cried Turry.

"You heard the King!" said the angry man. "End of the line for you!" He grabbed the hobbit and flung him roughly to the ground. Gimli was approaching at that moment and Turry landed at the iron-shod feet of the great dwarf. His small body hit the ground very hard and the little hobbit lay very still in the dust.

"Now try that with someone closer to your own size!" roared Gimli, with his face as red as his beard, clutching his battle-axe in a white-knuckled grip. At this, a number of the elves cried aloud, as did many men, and the fell sound of weapons unsheathing rang in the royal pavilion.




Chapter XXIV

THE SIEGE OF GUNDABAD

Eldarion could not be pacified. The infant cried loudly and angrily with his tiny face knotted like a red fist. Elediriel put her hands to her ears as the queen picked up her little son and tried to soothe him, walking to and fro in her fine tent, rocking the baby in her arms and speaking softly. Exasperated at last, Arwen told Ellie to bring the flask. The hobbit lass quickly found the precious miruvor and brought it to the frustrated mother.

"We shall see if what worked for you in the woods will work as well for me in the mountains," said Arwen, who took the flask and dripped a few drops into the open mouth of her screaming son. The baby coughed and gasped and choked. The queen put the child across her shoulder and lightly rapped his back until he cleared the fluid and was breathing well again. Almost immediately, the infant again began to cry loudly. His mother tried the miruvor once more and had better luck. Soon the infant was calm. Worn out from his exertions, the baby prince fell almost immediately asleep.

"I am nearly at the end of my wits!" cried Arwen, in a fierce whisper, as she and Ellie left the tent, leaving the child to the elvish maiden, Mehirabeth. "Are hobbit children as much trouble?"

"I do not really know, Ma'am," replied Ellie. "I'm sure they are."

"Why are we not breaking camp?" asked the queen. Ellie looked about and realized that the morning was not starting as planned. Every other morning had seen the camp breakfast at dawn and then be on the march immediately. The camp instead seemed in chaos. Angry voices were shouting on all sides, which the hobbit and the queen had not heard in the elvish tent while Eldarion cried so loudly. Lord Celeborn approached as they neared the tent of the King.

"Arwen," he said. "Something is awry. There is a malevolent spirit brooding over this camp, inciting envy and wrath. I have felt it since we came within sight of yon mountain." The tall elf pointed at the malignant peak of Gundabad, which they had first seen the day before.

"I feel it, too, Grandfather," said the queen. Ellie was always just a little surprised anytime she was reminded of the relationships between the age-old elves, who all looked like folk in their youthful prime to her eyes, when they did not seem as children.

"Then perhaps a daughter of the lines of Luthien and of Galadriel might do somewhat to help, if she has not forgotten her heritage entirely," Celeborn said calmly enough, though it seemed to Ellie that there was reproach in his words.

The queen's eyes flashed, but then she took a deep breath and thanked the great elf for his advice and turned to her hobbit handmaiden. "Elediriel," she said, "please bring me my harp."

Ellie dashed off to retrieve it. She stopped at the door of the tent and Mehirabeth looked up. "What do you want now?" the elf maid said.

"The Queen's harp!" whispered Ellie.

"You know where it is," Mehirabeth said disdainfully. Ellie ignored her and unpacked it. Looking upon the enchanted instrument, the hobbit girl thought for a moment about how her friend, Madrigal, had before given the harp to the queen when the king lay stricken.

"I'll be right back!" Ellie whispered again, and, leaving the harp, scurried out of the tent before even Mehirabeth's swift tongue could reply. She ran all the way (it wasn't very far) to where she and Madrigal had shared their own tent. Maddie was taking it down. She turned to see Ellie running toward her and at first was glad to see her, but then was ashamed of what she had done and of how she had been behaving.

Ellie saw the changing emotions on the honest face of her friend and suddenly remembered seeing her kiss Turry (as she thought) the night before. Immediately, Ellie grew angry and forgetful of why she had sought Maddie and of the Queen awaiting her harp.

"Ellie," Maddie began, "I'm sorry I've been mean. And I need to explain what you saw last night..."

"You don't need to explain anything!" Ellie snapped. "Turry can choose who he pleases. I hope you're happy. You probably deserve each other!"

"But Ellie," Maddie persisted, "it's not what you think."

"Then it wasn't serious?" Ellie asked. "That's even worse!"

"No! You don't understand!" cried Maddie, beginning to get upset.

"I don't understand?" Ellie shouted. "Oh, I see! 'Ellie doesn't come from the right families, so she can't be expected to understand.' Is that it? One set of rules for Tooks and Brandybucks and another for the poor Cottons and all the rest! I understand all too well!"

"But if you would only listen," Maddie shouted in return.

"No! You listen to me!" cried Ellie, angrier than she had ever been in her life. "I've put up with your whining and sniveling whenever things didn't go well or when you weren't getting all the attention! Well I've had enough! I ran all the way down here because the Queen needs her harp..."

"The Queen!" exclaimed Maddie. "The Queen needs her harp! And she wants me to bring it to her? Why didn't you say so?"

"Because it isn't true! She wanted me to fetch it, but for some stupid reason I thought maybe you would want to bring it, but I'm just wasting my time and the Queen's!" Suddenly, Ellie realized that time indeed was passing and that the queen was indeed waiting. Maddie realized the same thing at the same time.

"Oh, Ellie! And I've been so mean!" cried Maddie. "What are we waiting for? Come on!" The two hobbit girls ran as fast as their little bare feet could take them, forgetting their quarrel for the time being. Ellie ran into Arwen's tent and grabbed the harp without even looking at Mehirabeth's disapproving face. She looked at her friend standing sorrowfully outside the tent and reluctantly handed her the queen's harp.

"Listen Ellie," said Maddie, "You have to know that, last night, I wasn't, that is to say, we weren't really-- Oh! What I mean is, that it wasn't..."

There was a sudden outcry from near the tent of the king that stopped Maddie from explaining what had happened at the paddock the night before. Voices were raised in anger and the clear sound of unsheathing weapons rang throughout the royal pavilion.

"Oh no!" cried Ellie, and the two hobbits hurried to the sounds of building wrath.

The girls could not see through a ring of tall men and elves before the tent of King Aragorn. But they could hear the enraged cry of Gimli, son of Gloin, and the voices of elves and men raised in fury. They ran around the growing ring of warriors and finally saw Arwen looking on as Celeborn tried to push his way into the center of the ring. The countenance of the mighty elven lord was filled with wrath and, though he did not unsheathe his sword and did not carry his great spear, men and elves alike gave way before him. Those who did not heed his ringing voice found themselves caught up as if children and cast down. Many of his household, who had come with him to Rivendell from Lorien, came to his side and to his back to protect him from the swords of the Dunlenders or from any who might do harm to their lord. They looked with cool menace upon all others.

So it was that the crowd was somewhat dispersed and in its center Elediriel saw Gimli swinging his axe and Storwolos, a swarthy hulking man, parrying the blow with a great two-handed sword. Aragorn's hand on the hilt of Anduril and he looked near to leaping into the fray, for no one was heeding his commands. Elves and men alike were fingering weapons and all faces were grim and hard. Then she saw Turry, somehow she was sure it was Turry, lying still in the dust behind the dwarf. Before anyone could stop her, and heedless of the drawn weapons and wildly shouting warriors all about, Ellie ran to the fallen hobbit lad, crying his name and falling across his still form.

Gimli saw this from the corner of his eye and his head turned as he thought to warn the hobbit lass to get away. The Dunlender raised his great sword high and would have dealt a fell blow to the distracted dwarf, except that one arrow after another and then another and yet another struck him full in the chest. The big man faltered and his sword fell behind him from his nerveless hands and he fell dying to the dust.

There was a great cry from the other Dunlenders and things might have gone even more badly but each person in the camp stopped where he was when the horn cry of Buckland smote every ear with its clean and bracing call.

FEAR! FIRE! FOES! AWAKE!

Once again, the enchanted Horn of Eorl broke through a spell of evil and all who heard it felt as if they had freshly awakened from terrible dreams and darkness.

For spell it was, and no dream. Storwolos, one of the chief Dunlenders in the camp, lay slain by the arrows of Legolas, who could not have stood by to see his old dwarven friend struck down. The noble head of the wood elf hung low in regret for his deed. Though the horn of Merry Brandybuck had brought a breath of clarity to the host, the malevolence of the wizard, far away in the malignant mountain of the orcs, was still at work upon the camp. The rage each felt for whatever reason began almost at once to return and all others felt themselves growing angry once again as the spell of wrath and confusion once more fell full upon the host.

Nearby, two old hobbits stood surveying a gathering storm that the horn had given pause but could not stop.

" It was worth a try, Merry," said Pippin. "Now help me get to my grandson!" The old fellow was becoming concerned, for Turry had still not stirred.

"Don't give up so quickly," cried Merry. "Look! There's my granddaughter!"

The fat old hobbit was pointing at the queen. She took up her harp from the hand of Madrigal Brandybuck and graced the hobbit lass with a brief knowing smile. Then her slender hand plucked the strings and the hobbits saw that no small enchantment had been laid upon the harp of the queen. The first notes carried, not loud and bracing above the storm, as the sound of the horn, but clearly and softly through the din of anger and contention.

The sound of the harp came to the camp as if a welling spring of crystal clean water was swiftly filling the valley. The voices of rage were as muffled as if underwater. All hearts were calmed and peace was restored to all minds. Then, the clear voice of Arwen Undomiel was raised in elvish song against the wizard's spell of wrath. Elediriel's weeping over Turgon's still form stopped as she listened to the elvish words of the queen's song. In after years, she tried and failed to set to verse the words of the queen as they seemed to her hobbit's ears. She would always apologize that she could only tell of her own feelings and could not come near the majesty and beauty of the song itself and could never convey the wonder of the voice of her queen.

Arwen, Queen Undomiel,
Twilight of the Elves,
Lady of last Elvinesse,
who brought us to ourselves,
sang upon a day of wrath,
when every heart was cruel,
and bitter tongues were sharp and fell
and hands were raised to duel.

Wicked force of dark intent
had gripped our stalwart host
and plunged our minds in wicked thoughts
of hate for those loved most.
Though we had come together to
bring down an evil foe
he cast a spell from far away
that nearly laid us low.

But Arwen, Queen that blessed day,
made that spell disperse.
She sang across our stormy host
to repulse his evil curse
and turn our thoughts away from hate,
denying worth of life,
grasping pride and reckless rage,
to settle things by strife.

Her voice, uplifted, sang as sweet
as nectar to the bees,
and fell as clear as sunshine falls
upon the shining seas.
Our minds felt cleansed and clear again,
forgotten was each fight,
for Arwen brought us to ourselves,
and to the course of right.

It was a song worthy of a song, to be sure, for the queen's voice was uplifted until the sun had risen high in the sky and the wizard at last ceased to cast the darksome spell of wrath. Arwen had won. Ever after, among all the folk in the vale that day, if they lived through the terrible battles that followed, it was difficult to grow angry for petty reasons or to engage in selfish pursuits. In later days, Queen Arwen's song would echo in their minds, recalling how precious is the gift of life and how futile is the wasting of it in vanity and vexation. Its lingering enchantment upon them was realized that very day.

Elediriel Cotton stood as Turgon Took was carried away, and began to hope that he would be all right. Old Gimli assured her that hobbit heads were very hard and that the young Took would have little more than a nasty headache. Ellie nodded, but walked away to the queen's tent, rather than with the other hobbits to watch over Turry.

Turry had been injured, but not gravely, and he might have been on his furry feet again before the sun had set. Ellie was overjoyed at first to hear of this, but remembering what had happened at the paddock the previous night, became very sad again and did not visit the recuperating young Took. Turry would have looked for Ellie before he had even had supper, had not Furry and the elder hobbits made certain that he rested. Finally, Maddie went to old Master Meriadoc for advice.

"Grandfather?" she tentatively began.

"Oh ho. Yes, little pretty!" said Merry, who had been waiting for the moment. "What can an old hobbit do for you today?"

"I've done a rotten thing, and I don't know what to do," she said.

"Of course you know what to do," said Merry. "You just need to screw yourself up to do it."

"But it seems so silly and stupid!" Maddie cried. "I feel like a fool!"

"You'll get over that soon enough, I'm sure," Merry chuckled. "In fact, the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you'll get over it. Hey! I just made that up! But you remember it all the same! We'll make a family proverb out of it, eh?"

"Yes, Grandfather," she said meekly, beginning already to smile a little.

"Now you run and find your friends and apologize," said Merry. "You had better start with Ellie." She stood there for a moment wondering how much old Merry knew. "Go on!" he urged. She did.

Maddie went to the Queen's tent to find Ellie. A tall slender elf stood guard outside and, without expression, called softly so that Mehirabeth, Queen Arwen's elvish handmaiden, came out.

"I'm here to see Elediriel," said Maddie.

"She is busy with her duties to the Queen," Mehirabeth answered. "Perhaps she will return to your camp tonight, when she is finished." The tall elf maiden turned away dismissively.

"Oh, but please!" cried Madrigal, pushing down her temper and humbling herself before the Queen's servant. "It is most important that I see her now! Turgon Took, who was injured today wants to see her, and there are private things that she must know. Oh, please!"

Mehirabeth's cool eyes looked upon the distressed hobbit lass and she turned again and went into the tent. Maddie stood dismayed and turned to leave, beginning to weep a little. But before she had gone a dozen steps, Ellie came out of the fine tent and saw her walking sadly away.

At first, Ellie was inclined to simply let her go her way, for she did not want to talk to Maddie about anything, least of all Turry, and that was surely what she had come for. But then, unbidden, the memory of Arwen's song of peace resounded in her mind, as if she were hearing it again for the first time. She choked back a sob and called to her friend. Madrigal spun about on her bare heel and ran to embrace Elediriel. The two girls cried in each other's arms heedless of the tall elven guard behind them. All was explained and all was forgiven. Before supper together, all four of the tweens had reconciled and if the Twins had a special gleam in their Tookish eyes, then it is also fair to say that both of the hobbit lasses looked upon the dashing young hobbit lads with a new anticipation themselves.

***

Storwolos was given a funeral that night such as was common to the Dunlenders. His mighty form was carried to a bier of gathered wood laid on a hilltop there in the western end of the steep sloped valley. His son, Ulfang, who laid the first torch upon the pyre, received the great notched sword of his slain father and the young man vowed vengeance, not against Gimli or Legolas, but against the wizard whose spell had brought about his death. He spoke with a rough eloquence that surprised the rangers and the elves and inspired a certain sympathy and respect for the half-wild men of Dunland.

"...for it was not dwarves or elves or men or halflings that Storwolos, my father, came to slay, but the orc-folk of Gundabad, so that our people could live in the new green lands where our feet have trodden. As my father's ashes ascend to the sky, so let his spirit ascend from this hill. When we meet him again in the hereafter, we will tell him that his grandchildren multiplied and grew fat in a land of plenty. We will tell him that his true enemies met their just fate at our hands, and at the hands of our allies. We will remember that Storwolos, ever first in battle and counsel, was first to give his life for this land and this site will ever be a sacred place for us."

The King and Queen and their chief rangers honored the Dunlenders by attending their funeral ritual, as did Gimli and all the Lords of Rivendell. The renowned dwarf wept bitterly for his part in the death of Storwolos, and this was marked by the mourners. As the ritual ended, Aragorn renewed his pledge of land and freedom to Ulfang and the chieftains of Dunland.

"Your name is one that was not loved by the Elves or the Dunedain, yet your words go far to amend that," said Aragorn.

"Then let my deeds answer for all," said young Ulfang.

The tall king poured red wine from a golden chalice upon the ashes and the cup was passed to Ulfang, who did the same. Aragorn offered to have a great monument raised upon the site, but the Dunlenders said that the land was enough, and that Storwolos would prefer that the hill remain as it was.

No one knew where Legolas was to be found. It was marked by some that he walked out of sight as Arwen sang and was headed south. This caused some quiet concern among his friends, for much had happened to the son of Thranduil, but no one quite knew what to do about it and Aragorn said nothing.

***

The host moved east and two days later came to occupy the field south of Mount Gundabad and the passes between the Misty Mountains and the Grey Mountains. Birds flew to and from the royal pavilion and the siege was prepared. The Queen and the Heir were protected by the newly arrived Tookish archers and Buckland militia from the Shire, encamped about the pavilion at a great distance from the front lines.

Old Merry and Pippin, the great heroes of the Battle of 1419 were greatly delighted and wore their finest gear of war to welcome their lads from the Shire. But the long journey in the wolderness was more fatuguing than the old hobbits ha reckoned and they were weary when the boys from home caught up with the growing host. Nearly two hundred hobbits had come, drafted from the strongest young sheriffs and the best hunters and archers in Tookland, as well as from the sturdy hobbits of Buckland. Most were in their tweens, but there were a goodly number of seasoned old gaffers in charge of them. At their head was Pippin's son, Faramir, the father of Turry and Furry. The Twins were overjoyed to see their old dad (in fact, they had been far more homesick than either would have admitted!), and Faramir was proud to lead the best of the Shire to the honorable duty of protecting the Queen and Heir.

When the muster of Eriador was complete, and the supply lines to Bree had been secured, the time had come to officially declare the siege. Back in those days of less sophistication and greater civility, peoples did not make war upon one another without declaration. Such things were done for the decent respect of civilized people, both in that day and in days to come. Never would Aragorn have considered unsheathing Anduril, Flame of the West, to draw the life's blood of his enemies and yet be ashamed to openly declare his reasons. Kings like Elessar Telcontar (or Good King Strider as he was called in the golden years of his reign by the common folk), cared greatly that people in after generations would look upon his acts and judge them to be right, fair, noble, kingly, and just. But such high conduct has become rare in after years, for few nations have clearly declared for the sake of their posterity just what they were about and chose instead to obscure their acts of war with the shifting words of diplomacy so that they could achieve hidden agendas, observe political niceties, hold unsavoury alliances, and secure martial profits.

Six heralds were selected to formally announce the siege. Elladan and Elrohir rode forth for Rivendell with the star of Earendil upon their shields. Aradhel and Cairduin rode for Arnor and their shields were emblazoned with the White Tree. Ulfang for Dunland rode without sigil or sign other than the feathers of great birds and the tails and claws of fell beasts adorning a tall ceremonial spear. One herald did not ride, and that was Gimli, son of Gloin, for the dwarves. His burnished dwarven shield was graven with an image of the Hammer of Durin. The heralds and their horses wore plate and mail and came nigh the gates of the malignant mountain stronghold of the goblins. Their flag of parley flew stiff in the wind and the sun gleamed upon the gold and silver of their shields. There was no sound from the mountain. Trumpets blew clearly from the host behind them and Elladan stood forth to herald the army.

"The King and Queen of the united kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, the Lords of Imladris, and the chieftains of Dunland are come to lay siege to this fortress. For long ages, the orcs and goblins of Gundabad have been a menace to the peace of the north ever since the massacre of the Longbeards founded this realm in blood. This stronghold now defends the wizard Alatar the Black, who conspired with the troops of Gundabad to waylay Heralds of the King on their peaceful mission, who betrayed the hospitality of Imladris, who attempted the murder of King Elessar, who kidnapped Eldarion, Heir to the Throne, and whose sorcery contrived the death of Storwolos of Dunland. Alatar is also determined by the justice of the King to be guilty of the imprisonment of the wizard Pallando the Blue, and of working great evil in Harad, Umbar, and other nations of Men in his foul service to the Dark Lord Sauron. Alatar the Black, and all who have aided him have declared themselves enemies of all the free peoples of the world and in retribution for these crimes of the past and to forestall future wrongs against our peoples, we declare this mountain under siege. No quarter will be asked or given. No lives will be spared."

There was silence from the mountain. A long minute passed before the encamped host heard a great drum roll out a slow doom, boom, doom. The heralds returned to the camp without incident and waited for nightfall.