Chapter Two
Pippin stared at the elf in shock. When Marry had warned him of something coming up behind him and the pasted out, Pippin had expected to see a Black Rider or some other horror, but instead, there was an elf, standing calming but a few feet away. The elf interested himself, saying that he was Arrain and that he protected the forest. Pippin could not help but think that being the protector of such a dark and seemingly haunted forest was not a job most would want, but for once in his life, the young hobbits held his tongue.
"Do you not have anything to say, young hobbit?" Elurín asked after a moment of silence. "I have given you my name, may I not have yours in return?"
"Oh," Pippin muttered "I'm sorry." he then continued in a louder voice. "My name is Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin, most do. My friend," he nodded in the towards Marry, who was just beginning to awake. "Is Meriadoc Brandybuck, but most call him Marry."
The elf smiled, and it suddenly occurred to Pippin, that, at least by the standards of the Men, the elf before him was rather young, at least in appearance. As a man, he would have looked no older then a youth of 14 or 15, if that. Yet there was a deep sadness that seemed to hang around the elf and had Pippin not known better, he would have said that he thought the elf looked ill. His cheekbones were high, and a flush dusted them, his body seemed far too slender, although it was hard to tell, thanks to the fact that Arrain wore clothing that were far too large for him.
"What happened?" Marry asked at he sat up, looking a little dazed. "Pippin..." he trailed off as he spotted Elurín and his eyes widened. "But I thought..."
Elurín smiled. "You thought I was a servant of darkness, and I will not fault you for it, being careful will serve you better than being friendly in these days of shadow I fear,"
Marry nodded and stood up. "You live in this forest?" he asked after a moment, unsure of what to say and more than a little upset that he had fainted.
"Yes," Arrain replied. "I am its guardian,"
"And your name is?" Marry asked, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. He hated not knowing things, especially when it was clear that the elf had already instituted himself to Pippin.
"Arrain," the elf replied.
"Does it mean anything?" Pippin asked, suddenly remembering that most elves names meant something. "Your name I mean,"
Elurín smiled once again, and both hobbits suddenly realized that the elf, although they did not know him at all, really, seemed lonely. "It means 'royal freedom' in the language of my people," he replied. "But that is little remembered, most just called me 'rain' which is 'free'."
"It is a good name," Marry said after a moment of thought. "Or at least I think it is,"
"It is to me," replied Elurín. "And that is all that matters, in the end."
Silence fell over the clearing as each of the three followed the paths of their own thoughts. Yet, after only a few minutes, Elurín roused himself. "Come," he said to the two hobbits. "You are both tired, as am I, we may retire to my home, to rest and eat. Do not worry," he added, seeing their somewhat long faces. "It is not far."
Without looking back, he then turned away from the hobbits and walked into the trees. He knew that they would follow, strange and rare was the hobbit who turned down a good bed and the promise of food. As they moved deeper into Fangorn, Elurín briefly wondered what had brought the two hobbits to his forsaken corner of the world, and if they bore the wake-up call that he, and the forest, had been waiting for some years. The elf supposed that he would find out soon enough, one way or the other.
"Why would an elf live here?" Pippin muttered to Marry as the two followed 'Arrain' deeper into Fangorn's shadowy depths. "I thought they liked sunlight and open places, not dark ones,"
"I don't know," Marry replied. His anger had long been forgotten, replaced by the many questions posed by the elf. "But I don't think Arrain is, well, young, even by the standards of elves. I know he look young, but he seems... different from any other elf, at least of the few we have met. He seems wild... I don't think he is used to being around other people."
Pippin nodded, he agreed with Marry, Arrain was different for any other elf they had encountered, although that was not saying much, considering how few they had met. Yet there was something, Pippin could not think of the word, that unsettled him about Arrain. Maybe it was that he looked so young, but was clearly so old, or maybe it was the fact that he bore some resemblance to Lord Elrond, or at least what Pippin could remember of him.
"I agree that he does not often interact with others," Pippin said after a moment. "But if that were true then how does he survive? He may be an elf, but he still has to eat."
Marry shrugged, "I don't know he admitted, but he is taking us to his home so it seems likely that we will find out."
Pippin nodded and returned to studying Arrain. The young hobbit did not think of himself as any type of poet, he left that to Sam, who, despite always saying he was not a poet, could make up fine poetry when he wanted. But the words that strange elf's eyes brought to Pippin's mind where far from simple, so in his own way, Pippin found himself playing the part of that poet. For the young hobbit saw in Arrain's eyes a wisdom as grate as that of Gandalf, Lord Elrond, or Lady Galadriel, yet it was not wisdom, he thought, that one could be gained from books and watching the world from afar, no, it was the wisdom of one who had wandered the world longer than memory, longer then time, maybe, who had seen everything, and yet still understood that there were yet things to see.
