A SIMPLE COURAGE
Well, I really don't know where to start, but let me tell you: I've been through quite a lot in the past four years. You venture far from home to go on an adventure, only to find yourself as a prisoner of war who ends up helping to destroy a stronghold and then joining the army. Does this sound familiar? If you're an average Hobbit who has never ventured outside the Shire, then your answer would be no. I guess the only reason I'm saying this is because it happened to me and, as weird as it may be, it all started with stealing some of Farmer Maggot's vegetables. Then those Black Riders called the Nazgul came along looking for a ring that turned out to be an artifact of evil. That first journey was more of a misadventure really. In Rivendell, home of the Elves, this is where the adventure truly began - even if Pippin and I weren't too involved in it at first.
Pippin and I had been pals since we where children, running about in the fields of Tuckborough for most of our lives while spending most of our time either pulling tricks or chasing random lasses. We were both pretty foolish for the most part. The last prank we've ever pulled together was setting off Gandalf's biggest firework: the Dragon. Is what on Bilbo's one-hundered eleventh birthday party, too. It was a spectacular sight to behold, until Gandalf caught us. The only thing that surpassed our prank was Bilbo's disappearing act using the One Ring (which we didn't know about at the time). The only thing that sets us apart is that Mister Peregrin Took has the tendency to let his curiosity get the best of him, probably because of the fact that he had yet to reach 33. This was compared to what he is now. He's my moral conscious, and whatever my hot-headedness would get out of hand, it is Pippin who calms me down. I became more involved in the war while Pippin was stuck doing guard duty within the towers of Minas Tirith. The funny thing was, Pippin is a Took and most of the adventurers in the Shire are Tooks. Like the Great Bullroarer and that engineer Hildifons, only Hildifons never made it back home.
Yep, we ended up taking the similar path. But instead of beheading a gobling with a club or shooting arrows, we were pretty much stuck with slashing away with just a single short sword, which is why I recently took up a longer sword which I had some smithees make for me. It even works better. All it took from my experiences in the war was just a simple courage, and as a member of the Fellowship of the Ring, I wanted to contribute something. Frodo and Sam had gone to destroy the One Ring in the fires of Mount Doom, while Pippin ended up in Minas Tirith because of yet another one of his foolish acts. Let's just say I was determined not to be the only one left out. I got some Took in me, after all. I even envied the rest of the Fellowship as well. I had one for Aragorn basically for the best handling with a sword. I definately had one bad for Legolas, not so much as the others but still. Obviously he's cleaner and prettier than the rest of us, being the Elf that he is. He's also definately the best shot with a bow and arrow than either of us.
I think to be courage isn't about taking up arms to fighting against any threat that comes my way. It's more of a willingness to go up against any odds to protect something. Some good in this world that's worth fighting for, as Sam would put it. That was why I was able to stab the Witch-king in the back, not to mention almost paying a heavy price for it. But I survived and joined one more battle.
So, I guess that's pretty much how my life went in the war, and I can't really say that I'm happier than I've ever been because I know they will be more challenges that lay ahead.