The companions saw a dense grove of trees on top of a large hill. Holly seemed planted in a circle, spreading their dark, glossy foliage to form almost perfect balls. Attracted by the strange symmetry of the place, the Hobbit let Gandalf and climbed the hill.
All morning, the wizard had kept on pestering young Gerry. Strange terrors of the Hobbit, who clearly retained his guilt, had worried and intrigued the wizard. Despite his denials, Gandalf was looking for a way to help the hobbit, when he saw his protege move by himself to a high place of the elves of old. He smirked and followed Gerry.
Once at the top, they noticed that the air, which moments earlier was carrying some hints of marsh smells, now seemed to them softer, with a healthy and relaxing flavor. The sky, that all morning long, was covered with an opaque and threatening roof, now dissolved it to filter the pale rays of a distant sun, as shining in the early ages of the world. Gerry's view from there was like the gaze of a gyrfalcon ascending the heavens when the sky was new. Gandalf watched the Hobbit with amusement and curiosity.
- « We are on Amon Wenrin, the Hill of remembering. Elves who inhabited this land long ago, had planted these evergreens to revive the memory of their happy days. They say that things look like in your early youth, with the candor and innocence of an awakening mind. I wish I could go there whenever worries and chains of life prevent me from fairly appreciating hassle or grace.
- I wonder how far reaches your own memory back ?
-I remember many things from the Elder Times. But I had to forget a lot to relearn the laws of this world, so not to transgress any.
- Do you always speak with riddles?
- Some puzzles, tamed and embellished by their inevitable, slow and patient work of appropriation, are sometimes better than bare and hard truth. But as for yourself, have you told me everything I need to know to guide you on the adventurous road of courage?
- These last days, you have taught me the beginnings of humility. I'm a Hobbit, with simple and mundane ambitions. All I am looking for is happiness.
- There is neither happiness without freedom, nor freedom without courage.1
- It is perhaps brave of me to keep my secrets.
- It is true that sooner or later the price of secrecy as well as confession must be paid. You're probably right. Steadfastness requires courage, whether it proceeds from blindness or intransigence. But consider that in both cases, you might not be alone to bear the consequences. »
The wizard insisted:
- « But you have not answered my question. What are you feeling right now?
- Well, I feel better, my injury does not hurt any more. But I am ravenous! »
Gandalf loughed :
- « This is proof that your young Hobbit functions are stimulated by the place. But I was not talking about immediate sensations. What comes to your mind when you let it float in your past? »
Gerry took a deep breath and sat down on the grass, letting his gaze glide to the green hills, South of the promontory. Their slopes led to a river, barely discernible in the distance, but Gerry's thought blithely crossed the distance, fishing in a like river from his buried memory, an episode from his childhood. He saw himself lying in the shade of an alder, his feet in basil plants. The heat of a summer afternoon and a long run after a dirty trick, had led him to the banks of a tributary of Baranduin. A thick green roof retained a nice freshness to the valley where he had fallen asleep.
Through his half-closed eyes, he saw a little girl cross the river with graceful petty leaps, like a spring dragonfly gliding above a pure stream. She raised her diaphanous dress, held at shoulders by thin silver chains, exposing her small barely wet feet. Her handsome face, framed by long silver hair, already mingled the seriousness of Elven folk with childhood glee. Her wise and worried brow bent over Gerry's. With her index, she stroked the lips of the small Hobbit, who muttered a fairy rhyme of the Shire. She rose quickly, her enchanting smile splashing the whole valley with droplets of joy. The little Elf recrossed the river with her swift elegant jumps. On the opposite bank, a majestic Elven lady, Gerry could distinguish only when she moved, welcomed her child who softly told her, hardly containing her excitement:
-« Perianeg gar senneg, Emel ! »2
The grim woman smiled to her daughter, looked up at the Hobbit and extended her hand to him protectively. Gerry closed his eyes and buried the memory of what seemed a dream, deep into his heart.
- « Come back, Master Took! Do not fall asleep in the maze of your memories... »
The deep voice of the wizard hauled Gerry back to the surface of present time after the Hobbit had caught his memory in the depths of his unconscious mind.
Old Gandalf, somehow drawn, sighed:
- « I am not sure any more this place reveals profitable for you. It is dangerous for a mortal, to dive into the deep and intense reality of elven memories. Come, Gerontius. Your memories are too valuable to try to force them. », He said softly, raising his companion.
- « It is in memory that things take their rightful place3... » the wizard muttered to himself, promising not to pester the hobbit any more about his little magic secrets, and let time do its works.
This text is an excerpt of the Green book of Tuckborough, The Two Kings, chapter "The ghosts of Eregion", by Chiara Cadrich.
1 Pericles
2 The baby Hobbit is having a nap, Mummy!
3 Jean Anouilh