December 25: Yes, it is Christmas day. I assure you we have had a good many songs so far. The elves sang on our way out, Legolas continued the song, and the hobbits made up many more verses involving a good smoke and a lot of beer. This is going to be a long trip.
January 5, 3019: It hasn't even been all that long yet and already people are complaining. Well only one person, Boromir, complaining about how far he has to walk each day. Then Legolas is complaining about his hair, the hobbits all think they will die if we don't eat again soon, and Gimli's complaining that he has to travel with an elf. Plus all that ticks me off so I'm yelling at them for being whinny. And Aragorn is naturally laughing at the lot of us. I told him to shut up. He said no. Spoiled brat. I sometimes wonder why I think he'd be a good King.
January 8: We have reached Hollin. That brought a lesson in names of mountains from Gimli and a surprise from Estel. He says he feels no life here. When he comes this way he usually can usually hear the birds and other small creatures but not this time. I don't know, maybe he's tired and his senses are tired. It's time to sleep anyway.
January 9: While we slept, crebains and other birds kept flying overhead. We assumed we were being watched. We had better get a move on if we are ever to make it to warm places.
January 10: Aragorn's being a brat again. He keeps going on about how he doesn't approve of our course. Seriously! He's not King yet and he may never be! He just needs to shut up and acknowledge my way higher rank.
January 12: It has been snowing for the past two days. Legolas is also acting like a snob now, just because he can walk on top of the snow. My hand is a bit numb right now. I'll write more later.
Wee hours of the next day: So we did head back down the mountain and are headed towards the West gate of Moria. I finally gave in because, yet again, Aragorn was right. He told me the hobbits couldn't make it over the mountain. They couldn't. And we weren't even counting on Saruman's involvement. Maybe he should've been leader. We were attacked by wolves a few hours ago. Not too many really. However, we now have the creature, Gollum, on our trail. Aragorn spied him in the darkness after the moon set. Maybe we can catch him and question him further. I'll leave Aragorn to that. You know, I definitely can see the true blood of the ancient Númenórean Kings cursing through his veins. Maybe he should've been the leader of this company. Well, it is too late to being brooding over such things now. I have enough time to get a little sleep and then it's up and at it at daybreak.
January 14: Well I had less than 3 hours of sleep; however, I had an interesting night. We reached the Doors of Moria and got them to shine in the moon. It read: Ennyn Durin atan Moria: pedo mellon a minno. Im, Narvi, hain echant: Celebrimbor o Eregion theithant I thiw hin. The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs. Of course it had to be a riddle and all I had to do was speak 'friend' and we could enter. Since it was written in Sindarin, I had to say the Sindarin word for friend -mellon- and the doors opened. Just in time too. Frodo was nearly eaten by the watcher in the water but Sam was faster. I also think, because of either the wraith blade or the ring, Frodo's senses are heightening. He is looking around anxiously and I think he can hear Gollum. Well, good. I'm sick of this journey and I want to get out of here. Frodo and Aragorn can lead. I give up.
January 15: I am currently contemplating which way to go. I don't remember this part of Moria. At least this time I don't need to be completely on guard. I have Aragorn, who acts too much like an elf, Legolas, who is an elf, and everyone else who is actually listening instead of talking for once. I give up. I cannot remember where we are for the life of me. I am going to follow my sense of smell. (I hope no one notices my uncanny impression of the Nazgul!) Got it. The air smells cleaner… that way. By Elbereth! I never in all my years would've expected this! It's Balin's tomb! Now Gimli's never going to leave.
Well, our weeping was cut short seeing as we were being attacked by orcs and trolls. I must fly soon; a Balrog is hot on my tail. Oh well. Moria has put my patience over the edge for about 6 reasons. 1. Legolas thinks his hair is now tangled because it's to dark to brush his hair and it's not light enough to use his knives as a mirror. 2. Frodo looks like he wanted the Orcs to come just so Sting would glow. 3. Sam is making a racket because of all his kitchenware. 4. Merry and Pippin are playing jokes on everyone else. 5. Gimli, of course, is still sobbing his head off. 6. And Boromir seems oddly addicted to the ring. This last thing hasn't contributed to putting me over the edge but Aragorn is laughing at me because I'm growling under my breath right now and he's the only one that can hear. I quit, Strider's leading, and I'm going to go die now (maybe at the bridge) and rest in peace on my little island.
