Bill the Pony and His Long Journey Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Bill, or anybody/anything else. Those things belong to whoever has the rights to the Lord of The Rings. These words, however, are my own and they belong to me. Nuff said.

Bill walked through the fields, his hooves making very sad slopping noises in the mud. It had rained recently and everything was as wet as trolls spit. Slowing down for a few seconds, he shook his head to dislodge some of the glop that had collected in his mane. Mud sprayed everywhere and it seemed to Bill that his head felt a pound lighter. Usually Master Sam would clean his mane, but Master Sam had gone into a big dark hole and forced Bill to go the other. Bill huffed and hung his head. He missed Master Sam the way he missed freshly cut hay, it was a comfort he would probably never see again.

Huffing dejectedly, he made his way over to a rocky outcropping and trotted up it like a mountain goat. His mother had often boasted that Bill was the most sure-hoofed out of all the Bree ponies, and she was right. Bill was extremely well balanced, a feat that had served him well when he and the Fellowship had had to go through rocky and treacherous areas where footing was hard to come by.

And I had to that with an injured hobbit on my back, Bill thought proudly to himself. That takes skill. Wouldn't Ma be pleased if she saw me now? Kicked out by my owner and forced to walk through this ugly field!

Then he caught a glimpse of something bright in the distance, along the horizon. It wasn't a star, they never touched the ground. A human? No, it was too bright, as if it was a little diamond glowing on the skyline. A spirit? Bill had heard Master Sam mention spirits, they were often vengeful and did nasty things to people. He didn't know if this applied to ponies, but he was frightened nonetheless. Galloping away from the glowing speck, he bolted into a cave he had seen earlier. He didn't like caves, but whatever the speck was, it was probably more terrible than whatever was in this cave. He huffed for a few minutes, trying to regain his breath. Then relaxing a bit, he swished his tail absently, his breath making white clouds in the air. Suddenly he heard a great clattering outside the cave and he stepped backward, his hooves squishing the moss on the floor.

The clattering stopped, and Bill thought he heard a huffing noise. Pricking his ears forward alertly, he walked slowly towards the entrance of the cave. The huffing started again and he backed away, his body tense with apprehension. Then he heard a very horse sounding huff coming from the entrance.

"Come out of there, pony. I mean you no harm."

Anxiously, Bill poked his nose out of the cave and whinnied in surprise. For what he saw could only be a Meara, the Kings of the Horses, those who were descended from Felaróf who was brought to Middle Earth from Valinor by Orome.

His coat was the color of burnished silver, and it gleamed in the light of day. His tail and mane were as white as the clouds, and his hooves were as black as night.

"Pardon me sir, I did not mean to trouble you."

Bill mumbled, bowing his head. He was surprised to hear the stallion, (for stallion he was)

doing what was the equine equivalent of laughing.

"I am no Prince, pony. I am an average horse, it's just that I do not wear the same bridle you do."

"You don't even wear one at all…" Bill muttered impertinently. He didn't like how this horse kept calling him "pony." He also didn't like the way he laughed. It sounded like he was a braying donkey. The stallion laughed again.

"What is your name, pony?"

"I could ask you the same question."

The stallion nodded his head, his silky white mane swaying.

"I am called Shadowfax. I am from Rohan. My master is Gandalf the Grey. What about you?"

"Rohan…" Bill whispered, his eyes misty. He had heard Master Sam's friends talk about Rohan, about how they were known for their prize horses and their beautiful princess Eowyn. No wonder Shadowfax was so handsome. He had always wanted to gallop to Rohan meet Eowyn one day. She supposedly had hair as yellow as gold and striking gray eyes. She also supposedly knew how to handle a horse. He sighed and snapped out of his dream quick enough to reply,

"I'm called Bill. I'm from Bree I guess, originally. My master is-" Then he shook his head and corrected himself sadly,

"Was Samwise Gamgee, of the Shire."

Shadowfax sobered up immediately, the laughter dying on his lips. Sincerity in his eyes, he looked at Bill apologetically.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Bill shook his head and pawed at the ground.

"You don't have to be. He didn't die, he just let me go. They were going into this cave you see…"

And with that he related his whole story to Shadowfax. He began with his foal-hood in Bree, then his ownership by Bill Ferny, which he described as some of the most terrible years of his life.

"How so?" Shadowfax asked, cautiously polite.

"He kept me in this drafty old barn with some irritable chickens and hardly fed me or groomed me."

Shadowfax looked puzzled.

"Were the chickens really that bad?"

"Have you ever been pecked by a chicken's beak while you were trying to sleep?"

"Not that I…"

"Well there you have it then."

Bill then went on to describe his purchase by Mr. Butterbur, who then gifted him to Merry Brandybuck, and who then passed him into the care of Sam.

"I went through four owners in two days." He said tiredly.

He then talked about his journey with the Fellowship, how although he had been used as a pack animal, he was honestly and truly happy. Then he described the recent events in front of the Mines of Moria, of how Master Sam let him go, and his slow but steady trudge back to Rivendell, where he hoped to find food and a nice bed of hay.

"And that is my entire story. That is how I came to stand before you today, wandering in some forsaken field with mud in my mane."

Shadowfax nodded and when he looked at Bill again, it was not the look of superiority that he had first looked him with, but rather a look of sympathy and kindness.

"There is a stream nearby that I know of. You could walk through and wash yourself off."

Bill was shocked at the abrupt change he saw in Shadowfax. At first he had been pompous and rude. But now he was more pleasant, more caring.

It seems my story seemed to soften him up a bit, Bill thought.