A Passage from Middle-earth
Chapter Four: A House of Many Stories
As the conversation with Gimli came to an end, the hobbits turned in astonishment to their increasingly grizzled guide. They had all seen the Balrog with which Gandalf had been forced to contend in Moria, as well as the image of Nargurth in the Palantir. And they had also seen one of the Great Eagles very recently from the edge of the Barrow Downs. But despite the almost unspeakable grandeur of the Lords of the Air, it seemed unreasonable to pit them against the Fire Demon. It was Pippin who finally voiced the unspoken, mutual objection. But looking again suddenly more like old Tom Bombadil, the driver of their cart smiled as he turned and explained the wisdom of his gambit.
"Thorondor, King of Eagles, once marred the face of Morgoth, the Great Enemy himself," he said. "You remember how I told you about Feanor, the great Elf who captured the Light of the Two Trees of Valinor in the Three Silmarils? He had two half-brothers, both also fathered later by Finwe. They were Fingolfin, the eldest, and Finarfin, the younger. During the time when Fingolfin was the High King of the Noldor, he actually met Morgoth in single combat. One of the Silmarils was much later regained by means of cunning subterfuge and Songs of Power. But he was the only one of Elven kind to ever undertake such a direct confrontation. Needless to say, he did not survive it; though the tale is well worth the telling, for he did succeed in inflicting a grievous injury. And Morgoth went halt of one foot after that day until the Valar finally hewed both of his feet from under him. But after High King Fingolfin had been wearied by his efforts to avoid Grond, and then crushed by the foot of the Great Enemy, Morgoth broke his body. It would have been thrown to the wolves but for the intervention of Thorondor. The King of Eagles attacked Morgoth, marring the face of the Great Enemy with his talons. Morgoth sported those scars until he was eventually evicted from Arda."
"That was even braver than fighting with the mounts of the Ring Wraiths," gasped Merry.
"Indeed," Radagast heartily agreed. "And Thorondor also played a part in retaking the first of the Silmarils."
"I thought they were regained when the Valar destroyed Angband," objected Samwise.
"Two of them were," replied Radagast. "One had already been taken from Morgoth's crown. In fact, it's the very same one that Earendil brought back across the sea to the Blessed Realm when he, alone of all the inhabitants of Middle-earth, was finally able to successfully entreat the Valar to intercede in the matter of Morgoth."
"Earendil," echoed Samwise. "I've heard that name before. I believe he was one of Aragorn's ancestors. And the Phial of Galadriel also contained light of that same name, although I really don't understand the connection. But how did he take one of the Three Blessed Jewels from the Great Enemy's crown? I thought you said Fingolfin was the only one who ever actually met Morgoth in combat and he died as a result."
"The Silmaril came to Earendil as an heirloom because of his linage," Radagast explained. It was with a sudden, distinct sadness that he continued, "My marriage to Goldberry wasn't the first time one of the Maiar married outside our race. Ages ago, there was an Elf of the Blessed Realm named Elwe, which in the Sindarin tongue is Thingol. He fell in love with one of my kind, a radiant being known as Melian. After they married, they came to Middle-earth together. He then became King of Doriath, the Hidden Realm, which was an area of Middle-earth that Melian made invisible to the dark power of Morgoth by surrounding it with a magical barrier, the Girdle of Melian. Unlike mine, their marriage was blessed with offspring. They had a daughter named Luthien."
"I don't understand," said Pippin as carefully as he could. "I've seen you do many marvelous and amazing things, even before you revealed to us that you're a Wizard. Perhaps it is unkind to ask, but why didn't you and Goldberry have children? Could such a seemingly natural thing really be beyond the power of one such as yourself?"
"Our love was certainly real and I surely have no regrets, save for that one shortcoming," he said softly. "And it was the result of deception, more of the poison of Saruman. For the license he granted me was false. And so great was my desire to obtain it, I was easily deceived. His duplicity was beyond my comprehension. Being so full of joy and hope myself, I saw only benevolence in the ease with which he allowed me to resign from the White Council and annul my obligations to the Istari."
"Now I really don't understand," Pippin candidly admitted. "But I can see that the pain of it is still very close to you. And it is certainly not my wish to make you grieve. But we have been good friends for a very long time; perhaps it would help you to talk about it."
It was a long measuring look that the Wizard directed at the Keeper. But Pippin met the gaze unflinchingly. His intentions were pure. He meant only to minister and perhaps gain useful insight. He was not being divisive. Since his feelings were quite genuine, he felt no need to conceal them, especially from the very individual whom he was trying to encourage to greater openness. Simple was his wisdom, profound perhaps in its very simplicity. But it was wisdom, nonetheless. And its intended recipient instantly recognized that it had not originated in the Shire.
"Methinks you spent far too much time around my old friend Gandalf," Radagast replied with a knowing glint in his eye. "But your point is well taken, and your counsel is good. I will share with you the tale of Radagast and Goldberry. And then, if you will be good enough to remind me, I will also finish for you the tale of Beren and Luthien."
"This is going to be great," said Merry, smiling broadly as he filled his pipe and wedged one of the blankets between his back and the side of the lightly bouncing cart. "Don't get me wrong. I certainly do love the old stories. But I prefer news that is more contemporary. And I especially like hearing about the deeds of people I actually know, particularly for the first time. Say on."
"Yes," Samwise agreed. "Tell us your story. We wish to know your part in this tale."
"Very well," Radagast quietly consented. "It was late September when I met your party in the Old Forest and helped you on your way to Bree. Earlier that same year, Saruman had sent me to bring a message to Gandalf. My inquiries concerning his whereabouts led me to the border of the Shire. I met him there in June. In response to the message, which I relayed, he encouraged me to establish watchers among the animals and the birds. He told me to have them bring any news to Isengard. I'd passed through that region of the country only once before when traveling eastward from the Gray Havens after I first arrived in Middle-earth long ago. I'd spent most of my time here either in Mirkwood or other areas east of the Misty Mountains and never traveled further west than Rivendell. Since I had found Gandalf near this place called Shire, and it was undeniably of special importance to him, it seemed reasonable to begin the fulfillment his request while still in that area.
"And so it was that I entered the Old Forest and almost immediately met Goldberry. I thought for a moment, although I knew it to be impossible, that I had found Luthien herself. For she chose mortality and so passed out of the world long ago, and I could think of no other way that someone of mortal form could possibly be so fair or so skilled in woodcraft. I don't know if it's true of all her people or only of her family, but they had lived for a very long time in close proximity to a band of Wood Elves and had learned from them the lore of the woodlands. In truth, though mortal, to me she seemed more like the Maiar, my own kind, than she did like one of the Eldar, from whom she had learned her ways. I was struck to the heart, both by the sight of her and her mannerisms, the very first time we met. And having learned from the Eldar, she immediately recognized that I was fundamentally different from any being she had previously encountered.
"She was both respectful and playful at the same time. My friends, how could I have endured for long such treatment? She overwhelmed me! She tried to disguise her true feelings toward me with jests, but I clearly see the thoughts of all who are mortal. And her intention was not really to conceal so much as it was to give me the chance to assure her that her sentiments were being reciprocated and were therefore truly appropriate. Our love was like an enchantment that altered our very natures as well as that of our environment. I asked her to be my wife and promised that I would return to live with her in the Old Forest. She consented.
"I immediately headed for Isengard. Being the head of my order, only Saruman the White could grant me the liberty to resign from my position on the White Council and retire from among the ranks of the Wizards. As men count time, we had recently put forth our combined strength and driven Sauron from the fortress of Dol Guldur at the southwestern corner of Mirkwood. That is why I had chosen to live there, to be vigilant against his return. But his retreat had been a ploy. In secret, he'd been rebuilding the Dark Tower in Mordor. He simply returned there. And Saruman had assured us that the One Ring was forever lost, having long ago been washed into the sea. I had no reason to be suspicious of him. But if I hadn't both arrived and left before the coming of Gandalf to Isengard, I would most certainly have met a different fate.
"As it was, he readily gave me leave to pursue my course of love with Goldberry. I thought it was out of kindness. I had no idea that he saw it as an opportunity to get me out of the way. Nor did I have any inkling of the plot that he was about to hatch against Gandalf to either convert him into a fellow servant of evil or imprison him. He did insist however that I complete my errand. He also commanded that I deliver in person the news of my resignation to the other members of the White Council. As hastily as I could, for the entire journey was on horseback, I returned from my errand to Mirkwood by passing through Lothlorien. In Rivendell, Lord Elrond insisted that I leave my Staff. And there it yet resides.
"I had just returned to the Old Forest, taken Goldberry as my wife, and taken up residence in our new home when it was graced by the presence of such as yourselves, unlikely guests though you may have been! And it was a long time before I suspected anything. I had arranged for news to be sent to Isengard, not understanding that it would only be misused and that I should've made myself the intended recipient. But I was on honeymoon and blissfully unaware of the troubles that raged in the world all around me. By the time I finally understood your plight, the war was over."
"We don't blame you," Samwise assured him. "And it's not like you didn't help us. In actuality, you helped us twice. The Fellowship would have failed before it even reached Bree had it not been for you!"
The morning had long since worn away, and Radagast took advantage of the interruption of his narrative to stop the cart and give everyone a brief rest. Having been a gardener and farmer most of his life, Sam knew a few things about livestock. Barley and Sugarloaf had maintained an extremely fast trot throughout the first half of the day. Despite that, they actually appeared to be frisky, as if they could hardly wait to resume their trek. He strongly suspected that some magical ingredient was being added to their food. Hardy as the draft ponies appeared, he knew such vigor to be unnatural.
So much information had been imparted during the day's conversation already; Sam had let slip one of the questions that he had intended to ask Radagast. And as they were climbing back aboard, it was Merry who framed the inquiry.
"Did you say it was Elrond who insisted that you leave your Staff in Rivendell?" he asked. "It seems strange to me that he would require such a thing of you when Saruman had not. Why do you suppose he did that?"
"It wasn't for disciplinary reasons, if that's what you're thinking," Radagast replied. "He didn't have the authority to require it of me. But it wasn't an order; it was his counsel. And so I accepted it. Lord Elrond is well known for being gifted with foresight. After all, he is one of the two sons of Earendil."
"Earendil was his father?" demanded Samwise incredulously.
"No," answered the Wizard. "Earendil is his father. Both yet endure. And I can see that you'll require an explanation concerning their relationship as well. But I distinctly remember promising that I would tell you first the lay of Beren and Luthien. And since I can hardly describe for you the events that led up to the voyage of Earendil without first doing so, that is what I shall do!"
"Oh yes!" Merry heartily agreed. "You must tell us the whole tale. Nothing else will suffice."
"Very well," said Radagast as he started the tireless draft ponies back down the road. "Then let us begin. Princess Luthien was the daughter of King Thingol, an Elf of the Blessed Realm, and Melian, a Maia. She lived in the Hidden Kingdom, which her mother had surrounded with a Girdle of Enchantment. There she was safe from the many dangers that went abroad even in those days of Middle-earth. But as you might expect for one so highborn, her parents had lofty aspirations for her when it came to the matter of marriage. And such a sheltered life, which she was forced to lead, was hardly agreeable to one of mixed linage.
"Beren was the son of Barahir. Barahir had received a ring from Finrod Felagund, nephew of King Fingolfin, the same one who died in single combat with Morgoth. For Barahir rescued Finrod during the Dagor Bragollach, the Battle of Sudden Flame, fourth of the great battles in the Wars of Beleriand. That ring was given to Barahir as a token of his friendship with Elf kind. And it became an heirloom of the House of Isildur. You may have actually seen this very same ring on the finger of Aragorn. For you see, Beren was the immediate heir of the man to whom this ring was originally given."
"I know the very ring you're talking about!" exclaimed Merry. "So that's where it came from! It was given as a gift to signify friendship with the Elves! But I can't say I've ever heard of Beleriand. Where's that?"
"Much of West Beleriand fell under the waves when the Valar destroyed Angband," Radagast replied. "What remains of East Beleriand is to the south and east of Mordor."
"It's hard to imagine such a thing," Pippin admitted. "And it makes me sad to think that it took such destruction to root out the Great Enemy, yet it didn't even rid the world of all his evils."
"It is most assuredly not my intention to sadden you, Master Peregrin," the Wizard said. "Let me instead finish for you this story, for it will undoubtedly lift your spirits. It is perhaps the favorite tale of the Elves, for in it is the beginning of the mingling of the Children of Iluvatar. And its seeds flowered to finally bring an end to the Darkness that so long had held sway in the unapproachable North."
"Please do!" replied Pippin, who still sounded overwhelmed by the image of ancient lands falling before the fury of the sea.
"It was by the treachery of Sauron that Beren's father, Barahir, was slain," said Radagast the Brown. "The Orcs, which Sauron sent, briefly had possession of the Ring of Felagund. But Beren, alone surviving of his father's party because of being sent on an errand, managed to take it back. He wandered in the land of his father's grave for four years. Like me, he became a friend of the birds and beasts. And he was a thorn in the side of the Great Enemy, doing such damage to the forces of Morgoth as a lone, desperate vigilante might accomplish. So finally, a bounty was put on his head. Then Sauron pursued him with werewolves, fell beasts inhabited by dreadful spirits that he had imprisoned in their bodies."
"Alright!" interjected Pippin. "You can start cheering me up anytime now!"
"Patience Pippin, we're getting there!" said Radagast, frustrated at the interruption, though the other two hobbits smiled at their banter. "So Beren finally fled. His dangerous journey brought him across the very Mountains of Shadow. From there he descried, afar, the land of Doriath. His heart was filled with a desire to take refuge within the fabled Hidden Kingdom where no man had gone before.
"I should probably mention, ere I forget, that Doriath is where Lady Galadriel met Celeborn, whom she later married. She also learned much of the lore and wisdom concerning Middle-earth from Melian while residing there. And it was to Galadriel that Melian had foretold the coming of a man, even a descendant of Beor the Old, the forefather of Beren, whom her Band of Enchantment would not restrain. And so it was that, beyond all explanation, Beren passed through the magical Girdle of Melian and entered Doriath.
"I will not say it was chance that Beren almost immediately encountered Luthien, for the will of Eru was surely at work. He was smitten to the core by the very sight of her. She however was not aware of him. And time passed before their first actual meeting. On that occasion, he called her Tinuviel. That means Nightingale or daughter of twilight in the Grey-Elven tongue, for he did not know her given name. As she looked upon him, she fell in love with him as well. But Thingol would not even entertain the notion of a marriage between his daughter and a mortal man. So he set what he believed to be an impossible price, which Beren would have to pay in order to have the right to ask Luthien for her hand. King Thingol required this dowry: one of the three Silmarils from the crown of Morgoth himself!"
"You must be joking!" exclaimed Merry, clearly outraged at the idea.
"No, I'm not," Radagast assured him. "And neither I'm afraid was Thingol. But Beren made light of the demand, vowing to fulfill it! He said that at their next meeting his hand would hold one of the Silmarils from the Iron Crown. And so he departed from Doriath to honor his pledge. It was like the very footsteps of doom. In the course of his journey, he encountered others of Elven kind and was brought before King Finrod Felagund, the same one who had given his father the ring. In the Elf King, he found an ally; although Finrod set himself against the sons of Feanor in aiding his quest, for they would suffer none but their own kin to possess one of the Silmarils.
"They ended up confronting Sauron himself. And the contest between Felagund and Sauron is of great renown, for Finrod contended with Sauron by the use of Songs of Power. And the power of the Elf King was very great indeed. But Sauron overmastered him, and both Beren and Finrod were thrown into a deep dungeon. A shadow fell over the heart of Luthien because of this evil turn. By seeking the counsel of her mother, Melian, its meaning was revealed to her. For Melian the Maia was able to discern the fate that had befallen Finrod Felagund and Beren. And it seemed without remedy. But Luthien would not abandon her lover to cruel torments and death at the hands of the lieutenant of Morgoth. She slipped unseen out of Doriath, intending to come to his aid, unwary of the wiles of the sons of Feanor."
"You've inferred this before," interjected Samwise. "But I'm not sure I understand why they were so evil. They were Elves of the Blessed Realm, weren't they?"
"Yes, that they were," replied Radagast with obvious sadness. "But their lust for the Silmarils had caused them to take a treacherous oath, and they had already committed many great evils in pursuing its fulfillment. Perhaps at another time I will tell you that part of the tale. But for now, let it suffice to say that they tricked Luthien and then took her prisoner. When Felagund left his kingdom of Nargothrond, to aid Beren in his quest, he passed his crown to his brother. But two of the sons of Feanor, Celegorm and Curufin, hoped to seize the kingdom for themselves. In fact, they actually hoped Finrod would come to his end in helping Beren. And so he did, while imprisoned by Sauron with Beren.
"But Celegorm was enamored of Luthien. And the two brothers thought to force King Thingol to give her in marriage. This would have made Celegorm the heir of the Hidden Kingdom and so would have increased the power of the sons of Feanor in Middle-earth. But it was actually Huan, the hound of the Valar, who had found Luthien and brought her to the brothers. Orome, the Vala, had given him to Celegorm. And the faithful hound had gone into exile with him when, against the clear objections of the Valar, Feanor and most of the Noldor crossed into Middle-earth to retrieve the Silmarils. But Huan was pure of heart and quickly came to love Luthien. He couldn't suffer her to be held prisoner and made a political pawn, so he helped her escape.
"With Huan, she came to the bridge of the tower where Beren was being held. Great Songs of Power she cast against that stronghold. And from within, Beren heard and answered. Sauron was aware of this, and thought to have great reward from his master, Morgoth, by seizing her as well. One after another, he sent his wolves. But Huan slew them all. And last of all, he finally sent Draugluin, the lord and sire of the werewolves at Angband. Huan dealt him a mortal wound. And fleeing back to die at Sauron's feet, he told his evil master that the hound of the Valar was there. So, at last, Sauron came out himself, having taken on the form of the mightiest werewolf of all. It was a fierce battle. But Huan pinned him by the throat and he could not escape without forsaking his body utterly. He was therefore forced to surrender the mastery of the tower or be stripped of his raiment of flesh and his ghost sent quaking back to endure the scorn of Morgoth. He yielded and was allowed to flee."
"What a mistake!" interjected Pippin. "She should've had Huan finish him!"
"At best, they would have robbed him of his ability to take any shape of his choice. And while that might have helped the Numenoreans later," Radagast replied, "it would not have prevented the War of the Ring. But a day did finally come when Sauron was robbed at last of his power to take pleasing shapes. Nor could he ever again assume a flying form, like the Balrogs. But that isn't part of this tale. And I must stay my course or I shall never finish it!"
"Very well!" Pippin tauntingly replied. "But a day will finally come for that tale as well!"
"I can't tell you the tale of Numenor without first telling you of Earendil," Radagast grumbled. "And I can't tell you how the Silmaril came to him without finishing the tale of Beren and Luthien!"
"You are wise to draw such conclusions," observed Merry, his eyes gleaming as he exhaled a long draw from his pipe. "So, you had probably best get with it."
"Insufferable Shirefolk!" muttered the Wizard. Then, after an exasperated sigh, he continued, "Many Elves of Nargothrond had been held captive in that tower with Beren. The rule of Finrod's brother was strengthened by their return; and Celegorm and Curufin were driven out, though they contended with Beren and Luthien at the borders of Doriath. And because the hound of the Valar finally and utterly broke faith with his master, Celegorm, no life was lost in that conflict. So Huan was bound to Luthien after that. And for a while, the couple remained in the outskirts of Doriath. But Beren's oath would not release him. And he attempted to leave the Hidden Kingdom without the knowledge of his beloved. But she was aware of it, and she followed him.
"Using her craft, she conceived a plan by which they hoped to come undetected into the very stronghold of the Great Enemy. Using the hides of the slain horrors, Beren actually took the form of Draugluin, the lord of the werewolves; and Luthien was transformed into the likeness of the fell bat messenger of Sauron, Thuringwethil. Clad in these disguises, they reached the towering Gate of Angband. There, Morgoth had stationed Carcharoth, offspring of Draugluin, and more dreadful even than his father. And news of the death of Draugluin had come to Carcharoth in Angband, so he knew that his father was dead. Therefore, he stopped them at the Gate.
"But Luthien, being descended from the Divine Race, shed her disguise, revealing herself to him openly but commanding him to sleep with mighty Songs of Power. So they passed through the Gate and entered Angband. Still camouflaged, Beren crept beneath the throne of Morgoth himself. Luthien however was clearly revealed to the Great Enemy. She offered to him her services as a minstrel and then proceeded to sing him to sleep, along with all the host of Angband. Morgoth collapsed from his throne like thunder, with his crown rolling across the floor. Luthien awakened Beren. And he used Angrist, the knife he had taken in his battle with Curufin, to cut a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoth. In fact, he thought to take them all. But the blade broke after removing the first one, and the shard smote Morgoth on the cheek, causing him to stir.
"In terror, Beren and Luthien fled. Upon reaching the Gate, however, they found that the fell beast, Carcharoth, had awakened. And Luthien had no more strength with which to contend with him. Beren stepped forth with the Silmaril held high in his hand, thinking to put Carcharoth to flight. But the wolf was undaunted. And not considering the divine nature of that Sacred Jewel or the consequences of the action, it took Beren's hand in his mouth and bit it off at the wrist. A flame of anguish suddenly ignited his innards as the Silmaril seared his accursed flesh. Turning, he fled in agony.
"Beren quickly succumbed to the venomous wound he'd received from Carcharoth. Luthien's powers were all but spent. And the hosts of Angband had awakened. They would surely have died there before the Gate but for the coming of the Great Eagles. Thorondor and two of his vassals rescued Beren and Luthien and bore them away before the forces of Morgoth could issue forth and capture or kill them. And so they were returned to Menegroth, capital city of the Hidden Kingdom of Doriath. For a long time, it was uncertain whether Beren would recover from his hurt. When finally he did, he appeared before Thingol. And when the Hidden King asked him about his quest, Beren told him that it had been fulfilled. Indeed, there was a Silmaril in his hand; but it was in the belly of the wolf-monster, Carcharoth!
"In his anguish, the Wolf of Angband had been driven southward, towards Doriath. And even the Girdle of Enchantment was unable to restrain him, for he was driven by the Power of the Silmaril; so a hunting party was gathered to slay the fell beast and recover the Sacred Jewel. Doom fell upon Doriath that day. Defending King Thingol, Beren was bitten again by Carcharoth. Huan, Hound of the Valar, slew Carcharoth, but died in so doing. The Silmaril was recovered and it was placed in the hand of Beren. But even it could not sustain him, and he bid King Thingol to receive the dowry that he had been promised.
"Having been carried back to Menegroth, he lived just long enough to look once more in the eyes of his beloved. Luthien bid him to await her beyond the Western Sea, and then he died there in her arms. Darkness fell upon Luthien Tinuviel."
Radagast found it necessary to interrupt his narrative. All three hobbits were now sobbing uncontrollably and looking at him as if he had run them through with a blade. Pippin looked particularly betrayed by the turn of events.
"My friends," he said comfortingly. "The story, as you might think, does not end here. For the spirit of Beren, at the request of Luthien, tarried in the Halls of Mandos in Valinor. And though she died of grief for the loss of her beloved, her spirit was also brought there. In those hallowed Halls, beyond the Outer Sea, she sang the most beautiful and yet the most sorrowful song the world has ever heard. And the heart of Mandos was moved to pity as it never was before. But Mandos had no power to restrain the spirits of dead men to the confines of the world, nor was he able to alter the destinies of the Children of Iluvatar. He therefore took their case to Manwe, Lord of the Valar. And to Manwe the will of Iluvatar was revealed.
"Luthien was given a choice. She could either be released from the Halls of Mandos to live in Valimar, the city of the Valar, until the world's end, although Beren could not share in such a fate; or she could return to Middle-earth with Beren, sharing in his mortality. This she chose. So, they alone have returned from death to walk the mortal lands. And in that choice, the blood of the Two Kindreds has been joined. From that line have come many in whom the Eldar yet see the likeness of Luthien Tinuviel."
Evening was upon them and voices suddenly began to issue from the Palantir; as Faramir, realizing the Great Eagle's intent, looked into his Seeing Stone. Radagast spoke briefly with the Steward of Gondor. Gimli disengaged as soon as the Wizard entered the conversation. The Steward sounded hesitant toward the requests that were being made of him, but Radagast finally prevailed.
They took a short break, and then they climbed aboard the cart once more and rode on until nightfall. Being suspicious of the robust resilience of the draft ponies, Sam kept a watchful eye on Radagast as the Wizard bedded them down. He pursed his lips and nodded in vindication as he noticed an unidentified ingredient being added to their grain. The small leather pouch, from which the element issued, was quickly returned to the Wizard's vesture. Recalling how the incident with the Entwash had seemingly started; Samwise was glad Pippin had apparently failed to observe this procedure.
The Keeper, he thought, would probably try to secretly confiscate some, adding it to his own provender, and then end up having to run alongside the cart until it wore off. Although it might be somewhat amusing to precipitate such an incident, he had long since outgrown the need for such practical jokes. As lengthy as was the journey they were facing, he also knew it was possible that they might eventually have to resort to such enchantments out of necessity. Sugarloaf and Barley might ultimately have to be released, just as Bill the pony had been. And then, they would have to rely on their own vitality and anything that might extend it.
It was a darkling dawn. Waking from his dreams felt almost like escaping, but Samwise was unable to recall from what. He could recollect not one single element from the visions of the night, except that they left him feeling disturbed. Gazing eastward at the strangely strangled sunlight, he noticed an odd shadow hanging across the horizon. He knew it was not the Misty Mountains, still too distant to clearly discern. But it almost reminded him of the Shadow that had once hung over Mordor. He wondered if the awakening of the ancient evil that was now moving south from Moria was somehow causing it or if the Black Land might actually be sending forth its own old Darkness in anticipation of that terror's arrival. The thought made him shiver in the chill morning air. The hot breakfast helped to dispel the effect though.
Soon, they were headed back across the Great East Road again. Barley and Sugarloaf, the two draft ponies, quickly resumed their fast trot and the landscape began sweeping by. Having halted his tale before the gathering darkness of the previous evening, Radagast continued his account of the history of Middle-earth.
"Beren and Luthien returned for a time to the Hidden Kingdom. Then, they went out to dwell alone. And they had a son whom they named Dior. He was King Thingol's grandson and heir to Throne of Doriath. But for a long time, the Silmaril abode yet there in the Hidden Kingdom. It was an icon of great power and weighed much upon the heart of the king. He thought to have it set in a permanent mounting, something that would formalize his ownership of it to the son's of Feanor who urgently sought its delivery into their hands. And he besought the Dwarves to assist him; so the doom, by which the breaking of the fellowship between the Firstborn and the Children of Aule would be accomplished, was devised. For the splendor of the Sacred Jewel was far beyond that of any gem of the earth; and the Dwarves came to wholly desire it, turning on King Thingol and the Elves of the Hidden Realm. Thus Doriath was overthrown and the long life of Elwe, King Thingol Grey-mantle, ended.
"It was Beren who met the Dwarves in combat at Sarn Athrad, and he reclaimed the Silmaril. This is how it came to Prince Dior. He and his wife, an Elf named Nimloth, departed from Luthien and Beren and went to dwell in Menegroth to reestablish the glory of Doriath. For after the death of King Thingol, Melian departed from Middle-earth, leaving the sorrow of her loss and the ruin of the Hidden Kingdom behind."
"You said Melian was a Maia, even as yourself, didn't you?" Sam abruptly asked
"Yes," replied Radagast. And then, puzzled by the curious tone, he asked, "Why?"
"It's just occurred to me that there's quite a parallel," Samwise responded, sounding unusually thoughtful. He then said, "Each of you married outside your race, withdrawing into set borders, as Elrond said of you; then, you each used your powers to protect those borders and discourage entry. And after the passing of your mates, each of you left your forests and went elsewhere. Was it also your hope to finally return into the West?"
Looking over his shoulder from the driver's seat, the Wizard carefully regarded the suddenly insightful Samwise for several moments before replying, "There are a few very noticeable differences in the situation I now face. Goldberry was of mortal kind. Death for her was, therefore, inevitable. She died from natural causes, whereas King Thingol was betrayed and killed by the Dwarves. In truth, I did use the fear of the Old Forest to my advantage, playing up its worrisome reputation to the Bucklanders, whom I befriended, and to Farmer Maggot. The power of Radagast the Brown, even if I had my Staff in hand, is however by no means fit to be compared to that of Melian. But in answer to your question, I do not know by what means now, if any, I may yet return to the Far Shore. Aside from safe passage beyond the Walls of the World for my beloved, that was the topic of the prayer in which I was involved when you found me in the Barrow Downs."
"Surely that wasn't just a coincidence!" blurted Pippin. When all eyes turned to him, he hesitantly continued. "Perhaps our finding you at that precise moment was actually intended to put your feet on the path that will eventually take you home. It's a thought."
"At any rate, we will most certainly agree with your entreaty," offered Merry. "But you must now hasten to the end of your tale!"
"Very well!" laughed Radagast. "So, Dior and Nimloth went to go live in Menegroth, and with them went their children. They had two sons, Elurin and Elured. And they had a daughter named Elwing. She became the wife of Earendil."
"Now wait a minute!" protested Merry. "Where did Earendil come from? Are you trying to skip parts of the story?"
"Not at all, Master Merry," Radagast assured him. "Luthien wasn't the only Elf maiden to wed a mortal man. For Barahir, Beren's father, was not the only one of the Followers who had become a friend of the Firstborn. Huor was the father of Tuor. And the brother of Huor was Hurin, who had been of great service to both King Fingon and King Thingol. Together, the two brothers had been allowed to visit Gondolin, another great hidden kingdom of the Elves, the last to be overthrown. It was a very rare honor that was accorded them in that admittance. Both brothers were slain in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and Great Fifth Battle in the Wars of Beleriand. Because of this, Tuor was orphaned. He was adopted and raised by the Grey Elves."
"I wish I'd been adopted and raised by the Elves!" Pippin complained.
"I'm raising you as best I can," Radagast replied with a wink. Pippin stuck his tongue out at the Wizard in response to this. But Radagast patiently continued, "Tuor became a messenger of one of the Valar, Ulmo, with whom he had an encounter. Fell deeds did the Noldor commit when they crossed the sea in pursuit of Morgoth and the Silmarils, with which I will not now burden your ears. But for these deeply lamentable deeds, they earned the Curse of Mandos. And Ulmo, the Vala, knew that the curse was hastening to its fulfillment. So he sent Tuor with words of counsel to Turgon, son of Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor in Gondolin, urging him and its inhabitants to return into the West. It was there in Gondolin that he met Idril Celebrindal whom he later married, Elf Princess of Gondolin and daughter of King Turgon. Earendil is their son."
"Somehow, I don't think they heeded the warning," ventured Samwise suspiciously.
"King Turgon believed Gondolin to be unassailable," Radagast said sorrowfully. "He had no idea that its secret mountain location and hidden ways of access had been found by the servants of Morgoth. Many songs have been written about its fall. For it was there that Ecthelion slew the Lord of the Balrogs, Gothmog, although he also perished in so doing. And there were many great deeds that enabled some of its benighted inhabitants to escape.
"Thorondor and the Great Eagles played no small part in aiding the escape of the fugitives. A mighty Elf named Glorfindel, chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, died defending their retreat; for he fought a Balrog, and both fell from the mountain top and into an abyss. But at last, Tuor and the party he led were able to journey southward. Eventually they followed the river to the sea and dwelt there by the mouths of the Sirion, joining their group to the people of Elwing, Dior's daughter. And this is how Earendil and Elwing met. When they wed, his fate was joined to that of the Sacred Jewel of which she was the keeper.
"Tuor, as you may recall, had become the messenger of Ulmo, the Vala, Lord of the Sea. As Tuor aged, the call of the sea grew ever stronger upon him. At last, he built a ship and sailed into the West with his wife, Idril Celebrindal. In after days, it was sung that Tuor was numbered among the Elder race and was joined with the Noldor whom he loved. But Earendil and Elwing abode yet in Middle-earth. Great and sudden was the wrath of the sons of Feanor in attempting to seize the Silmaril. They attacked the Elves at Sirion while Earendil was out upon the sea. The sons of Earendil and Elwing, Elrond and Elros, were both taken captive. Elwing, with the Silmaril upon her breast, cast herself into the sea. But Ulmo bore her up and gave her the likeness of a great white bird with the Silmaril shining like a star upon her breast. So it was that she came to Earendil upon the sea. He learned of the ruin of the havens of the Sirion and of the captivity of their sons whom he feared would be killed.
"Turning from the shores of Middle-earth, he sought a passage to the Blessed Realm. And by reason of the power of the Silmaril, which shown ever more brightly as they passed into the West, they found that passage. In time, they came to the Bay of Eldamar and made anchor there at the very Shores of Valinor. And bearing the Silmaril he made his way into Valimar, appearing before the Valar. He entreated them for the sake of the Two Kindreds, which he was able because of his mixed linage to represent. And his petition was granted. So it was that the Valar acted once more in concert against Morgoth, this time driving him utterly out of the world. But they imposed a choice on those of mixed linage. Earendil and Elwing both elected to be numbered among the Firstborn, although they would not be allowed to leave the Blessed Realm again. Earendil now sails the sky in the Vingilot, his enchanted ship, bearing upon his brow the Silmaril. He has become the most beloved star of the Eldar. And in the circuit of his journey, he returns to the Blessed Realm and to Elwing.
"Elrond and Elros were not part of that journey and did not step foot on the Immortal Lands. But Elrond also chose to be counted as one of the Firstborn of the Children of Iluvatar. He it was who founded Rivendell and remained in Middle-earth until the end of the Third Age, as well you know. His brother, Elros, chose to be numbered among the Followers, Men. This was the beginning of the Numenoreans, the Dunedain. In them, some of the wisdom and the strength and even some of the longevity of the Eldar yet remains. And your friend, Aragorn, now Elessar, High King of Gondor, is a descendant of that line. And of course his wife, Arwen, is the daughter of Elrond."
"What about the other two Silmarils?" Samwise asked. "What became of them?"
"They were recovered by the Valar, and then they were stolen by the two remaining sons of Feanor, Maedhros and Maglor. And the Valar allowed this, for these two had become so evil that they were unable to touch the Silmarils. And they were driven mad by this inability. Maedhros was badly burned by his Silmaril and, taking it with him, he cast himself into a pit of fire. Maglor finally threw his into the sea and then he vanished from knowledge, never dwelling again among any of the Eldar. So, one of the Silmarils went into the depths of the sea, one has gone into the fires of the earth, and the other rides across the heavens on the brow of the Blessed Mariner. They were, if you will, the inspiration for the Three Elf Rings; for they were the Rings of Water, Fire, and Air."
"And those are all gone now, too. Aren't they?" asked Pippin.
"Yes," the Wizard replied. "And all that was made with their power is now fading as well."
Wet weather moved in, complicating further discussion. It stayed with them all through that day and into the next. By the time the clouds finally broke, they were passing by Weathertop. All three hobbits were glad for the fortuitous return of sunlight. It helped to dispel their dark memories of that place. With the weather both warming and clearing, and the most infamous feature along the road to Rivendell now behind them, they took exceptional enjoyment in their evening meal. It was obvious that they were making very good time. Their dreams began to be filled with images of the tales, which Radagast had been sharing with them. And they felt encouraged by the heroes of those stories. The next day, they were excited to hear from Eowyn and heartened by her news of the riding of the Rohirrim.
Over the next several days, Radagast rehearsed for them the history of Numenor, also known as Westernesse or Anadune. It was a great island that had been created by the Valar for Elros and all of his descendants, the Numenoreans or Dunedain. He told them how Sauron the Deceiver, who had fled before the Valar and escaped the ruin of Angband, finally succeeded in misleading a ruler of this kingly line into believing that immortality was being deliberately withheld from them. According to that counsel, they tried to launch an assault against the Blessed Realm itself. Those not if favor of this course sought harbor in Middle-earth. And the Faithful were spared when Westernesse was destroyed. Elendil became their king. But he was slain by Sauron on the plains of Gorgoroth at the end of the Second Age. He was the father of Isildur, the same one who, after his father fell, took up the hilt-shard of his father's sword, Narsil, and, albeit inadvertently, cut the One Ring from the hand of the Dark Lord.
"Sauron underestimated the speed and the severity of the response from Valinor," Radagast said to Pippin. "He was overtaken by the fierceness of the wrath, which was unleashed upon Numenor. That is how he was disembodied. It was a long time before he could take physical form. And after that, he wasn't able to take a pleasing shape, only one that revealed his true malicious nature. When Isildur cut the One Ring from the Dark Lord's hand, Sauron was separated from part of his own life force. This is why he could only appear as the Eye of Sauron, which you glimpsed from the Black Gate before it fell."
Nearly a week out from Bree, having just crossed the River Mitheithel by means of the Last Bridge, the Palantir allowed them to overhear a conversation between Eowyn and Faramir. They knew that the Beacons were being lit. And about half an hour later, High King Elessar responded. The hobbits could scarcely believe the way he spoke to Radagast, although they understood how Isildur's heir might have felt abandoned by the Wizard at the time. But the conversation did finally conclude on a civil note.
Although riding in a cart was surely less uncomfortable than walking; after spending days in its jostling confines, they were glad to finally be passing by the Trollshaws and only about another day away from the Ford of Bruinen. They were now very close to Rivendell. The following day, as they were preparing to cross the River Bruinen, they overheard another update. This was a report on the first confrontation with the Balrog. Since they knew many of the Ents by name, Pippin and Merry were almost relieved that the identity of the casualty was not revealed. It was encouraging however to know that Treebeard was enjoying such great success with Grond. The plan seemed to be working, so far. Sam thought that Gandalf would actually be proud of the way Radagast was handling their current crisis, but he also thought it would probably seem flippant to make such an observation out loud.
Though the draft ponies incredibly seemed not to mind it, Radagast was pushing them very hard. They arrived at Rivendell the following evening. The King's Guard welcomed them, saluting Pippin according to their custom. And the Keeper suddenly looked to be in his own element. They were shown to the main house. While Radagast explained their provisional needs to the Captain of the Guard, the hobbits wandered all around the great room. Finally turning to them, the Wizard could see the wonder written on their faces.
"Most of the pictures on these walls seem to relate to the stories you've been telling us," said Merry.
"Yes, they do," agreed Radagast. "Some might even evidence a few details that I may have glossed over. The Elves, who painted them, were recalling the elements in the first person."
"Will we be able to stay here long?" asked Pippin hopefully.
"No, only overnight," replied Radagast firmly, but obviously saddened at having to disappoint the Keeper. Realizing that the Captain of the Guard had stayed after being dismissed, Radagast asked, "Were you waiting to show us to our rooms?"
It was a quizzical smile with which he was answered. He suddenly noticed that he could not discern the man's intentions. And he understood this to mean that there was Numenorean blood in the veins of the Captain of the Guard. He was much too young to have learned to mask his thoughts by spending time around the Elves. They had left Middle-earth long before he could have been born. Marking the astonishingly sea-gray eyes, the Wizard patiently waited for the reply.
"I'm sure there's something else you'll want to see first," the young man answered. "If you will please come with me, I would be honored to be present for this reunion."
The man's curious behavior and tone got the attention of the hobbits. They all tagged along as Radagast followed his escort out of the great room. Arriving in what appeared to be a massive sitting room; the man very purposefully marched up to a large closet and ceremoniously opened its doors. It was almost empty. There were only three items within its confines. In one corner at its back was a lute. Its strings glistened as if they were made of Mithril. In the other corner there was a long wooden flute. It was covered with ornate carvings.
Standing in the center of the alcove, and not suspended by any visible supports, was a long wooden Staff. How it could have remained balanced in that position seemed beyond explanation. And to the hobbits it looked very much like the Staff with which Gandalf had gone about before his reemergence from Moria. They were elated to see that their Wizard was about to be reunited with it, because it seemed reasonable to assume that it could only help them in their quest. But even their comprehension of the significance of the moment could hardly have prepared them for the sudden spectacle that ensued.
Stepping into the enclosure, Radagast took the cherished icon into his grasp. There was an immediate consequence. The alcove abruptly filled with a strange, beautiful light. This was despite the complete absence of windows within the storage chamber. The instruments produced music, as if played by unseen hands. And the surface of the rod was altered as the Staff budded in his hand. Even the Wizard himself was changed. His raiment turned from Brown to Green. As he turned to face them, the peculiar hue was even evident in his hair and beard. And his irises now looked like sparkling emeralds. The Captain of the Guard ceremoniously bowed before the emerging specter, and the bewildered hobbits followed suit. Their transformed guide stood before them.
Transformation
(Instrumental)
"What's happened to you?" Samwise breathlessly asked.
"I am Radagast the Green," the Wizard replied. "And by the power of all growing things, I will protect you from the Shadow and bring you safely to your destination."
"May those who have dwelt with Iluvatar, beyond the Walls of the World, yet deliver us from the Darkness and those who serve it," the Captain of the Guard intoned as if he were reciting an ancient benediction. Rising and facing the foursome, he continued, "If you are ready, I will show you to your sleeping chambers now."
"First," replied Radagast, looking at him through those shockingly emerald eyes and smiling knowingly, "you must tell us your name and your linage. For I perceive that there is clearly Numenorean blood in your veins."
"I am Arador, named after my grandfather," the Captain of the Guard answered quietly. "His son was Arathron, the father of Aragorn. But he also had a daughter. She is Aragorn's aunt and my mother. High King Elessar is my cousin."
"You would keep a thing like that secret from such distinguished guests?" Radagast teased him jokingly.
"I have no designs on the thrown, so I make no mention of my heritage; my father was not from the line of the kings," Arador replied. "It's a far greater honor, I would contend, to be entrusted as the caretaker of such an esteemed estate. But I keep a much greater secret than that. The previous master of this house, as well you know, was blessed with foresight, but perhaps not more so than at least one of his other guests. And the one to whom I refer is also a member of your order. He left something here for you."
Besides a very ornate table and a collection of obviously handcrafted chairs, there was only one other piece of furniture in the spacious sitting room. It was a large cabinet. And Arador turned quickly, opened it with a flourish, and abruptly produced a long sheathed sword. The hobbits saw that even the scabbard was a thing of great beauty, not understanding that the Elf runes, written thereon, had the power to keep the blade within perpetually sharp. Radagast exposed the blade as the Captain of the Guard passed the weapon to him. Having seen it used in combat firsthand, Pippin instantly recognized it.
"Glamdring!" he exclaimed. "That was Gandalf's sword!"
"So it was indeed," Arador agreed. "And now it is the prized possession of your Wizard. Are you now ready for me to show you to your rooms?"
Amid many mute nods of ascent, he turned and led them from the sitting room. Stepping out onto the landing, it was clear that the majesty of the Elven village had been meticulously maintained. There had even been some construction. A number of bunkhouses had been erected. Their guide explained to them that the caretakers entered the original dwellings only to clean or refurbish. The Elven structures were treated almost as if they were museums, so nobody actually lived there. They were afraid that human occupancy and continued use of the primary facilities, now that the Eldar were gone, would only hasten decay. He told them however that one of the older buildings was still used to house honored guests such as themselves. And the hobbits were obviously happy to learn that they would indeed pass the night among the ancient trappings of the Elves.
After they had each retired to their respective quarters, and for a very long time, Samwise stood before a full-length mirror at one end of his room. His unnaturally youthful appearance somehow did not seem so out of place in such timeless surroundings. More than ever, he wished he could have finally convinced Rosie to leave the Shire and visit such a place. He thought about their long life together. He thought about Frodo and their Great Quest. And he thought about the One Ring.
It had been in his keeping only briefly. And even at that, he had experienced its hold when it came time to return it to the assigned Ring Bearer. More than he would ever have admitted to his friends, it came unbidden into his dreams across the years. For a long time he had thought those occasional night sweats to be a very small price to pay for the victory that had been achieved. As the years had become decades, however, he finally began to wonder if his dreams could actually be premonitions of some, as yet, unfinished destiny. Knowing that such a terrible power could be summoned again, he found his old misgivings awakening anew. After so much time had passed, it seemed impossible that it could reassert itself. But already, the One Ring was ever in his mind again. And the further east they traveled, the worse it got.
He considered the possibility of discussing this with Radagast. Now that their Brown Wizard had turned Green, his abilities had surely been augmented. But even Gandalf the Grey had only been able to serve as a guide for the Fellowship. The Burden had always resided with the Ring Bearer. And even Saruman the White had been unable to contend with its hungering power. At length he finally concluded that it was unwise to possibly worry his friends, and their guide certainly already had trouble enough with which to deal. Taking comfort in the healing atmosphere of Rivendell, he climbed into the bed and quickly fell into a restful, dreamless sleep.
It was however more than just the lingering presence of the Elves that ministered to him. It was from the very bed in which he lay that Gil-galad had arisen and ridden forth with Lord Elrond into combat in Mordor. Originally he was known as Ereinion, before coming to be called only by his surname, which meant Star of Radiance. He was the son of Fingon, and last High King of the Noldor in Middle-earth. He rode with Elrond and Elendil, the father of Isildur, in the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. And he fell there beside the King of Gondor, both being slain by Sauron. Even now, he yet dwells in the Halls of Mandos in Valinor. And by the grace of the Valar, unbeknownst to anyone else in the household except perhaps Radagast, his presence gave comfort to the Ring Bearer that night.
They broke fast the next morning before a virtual feast. The Hall of Fire was no longer used as a place for telling tales and singing songs but had been transformed into a banquet hall for the occasional royal guest. Lighting had been added and some of the artwork from the main house transferred into its confines. Most notable were portraits of some of the previous inhabitants. The hobbits gazed upon them, as they filled their bellies. Two in particular caught the eye of Samwise. In one there was a woman, an Elf princess by the look of her, standing beside Lord Elrond. Another depicted her alone as she stood upon a pier at the Grey Havens, apparently awaiting a ship that seemed to be approaching. In both she bore a striking resemblance to both Galadriel and Arwen.
"She is Celebrian," Radagast replied when asked, "She is the daughter of Galadriel and the mother of Arwen. She is the wife of Lord Elrond, to whom she has now been rejoined."
"Galadriel is Arwen's grandmother?" demanded Pippin incredulously, always intrigued by the intricacies of familial relationships. "Why are we just finding out about this? And why didn't we get to meet her when we were here before?"
Radagast patiently replied, "Long ago, while taking a journey across the Redhorn Gate to visit her family in Lothlorien, her party was waylaid by Orcs and she was taken captive. Their two sons, Elledan and Elrohir, rescued her. But she had been tortured and inflicted with a poisoned wound. They brought her back here to Rivendell, which is also called Imladris by the High Elves. Lord Elrond was finally able to heal her body, but the mending of her spirit could not be accomplished in Middle-earth. She had to return to the Undying Lands. There, she has now been reunited with all her family; except, of course, Arwen, who is also the granddaughter of Earendil on Elrond's side."
"The Redhorn Gate?" asked Pippin with obvious trepidation. "Isn't that where we're going?"
"There have been no Orcs west of the Anduin for decades," the Wizard curtly informed him. "And we are crossing the Misty Mountains by means of the High Pass."
Looking quickly to Arador, as if seeking confirmation from one of his comrades in the service of Gondor, Pippin asked, "Is that right? Shouldn't we maybe take another route?"
The Captain of the Guard turned to Radagast, as he said, "The High Pass is not open at this time of year."
"Are your people not also charged with maintaining the late summer gardens along the High Pass?" the Wizard asked. "Surely you have not neglected your duties."
"We have neglected nothing," he quickly replied, evidencing a flash of anger in his sea-gray eyes, before finally concluding, "my lord."
"Then we shall cross the Misty Mountains by way of the High Pass," Radagast reaffirmed to him. "It will be open for us. We'll take the ponies with us. And a horse will need to be requisitioned for the Keeper. He will ride with me. Three such mounts should be able to easily bear both our supplies and us. We will leave the cart behind. We may have to trade our animals for a boat however when we reach the river. And we should leave as soon as possible. We will need the sunlight."
"My lord, we're expecting snow in the upper elevations today," Arador quietly informed them. But when Radagast answered him with nothing but stoic silence, he finished by saying, "I'll make sure everything is ready for you. Thunderclap, a horse of linage mixed with the Mearas, knows the secret way up to the High Pass. Having him in the lead will easily shave days off your journey. And your draft ponies look to be sturdy animals; they should be able to keep up."
With their bellies full and their nerves now totally on edge, the hobbits quickly repacked their overnight items and prepared to depart. They were forcefully reminded of how eventful had been the last journey upon which they embarked by leaving Rivendell. It was far from a comforting thought. Riding across the picturesque bridge, which seemed to separate the Elven village from the normal flow of time, Samwise remembered Radagast describing something as the footsteps of doom. He wondered how any departure from Imladris could possibly be regarded as anything else.
Almost immediately, their chosen way began climbing up into the Misty Mountains. The lofty peaks, in all of their pristine glory, were clearly visible far ahead and far above them. They looked like the very definition of unattainable summits. And the Fellowship had been defeated in their efforts to cross a mountain pass before, although Saruman of Many Colors had certainly played no small part in their difficulty. But to Sam, it seemed almost pretentious for this Wizard to believe that he would succeed where Gandalf had failed. It was clearly snow clouds that were beginning to encircle the glittering crowns of the immediate mountains. The snow banks extended much further down their prodigious shoulders than when the previous expedition had been driven back. And the glare was intensely distractive.
The very air seemed to freeze and stick to the winter fur of their mounts as they pushed up the barely discernable path. The bitter breeze quickly blew away the highly visible clouds of vapor, which were issuing forth from the nostrils of the three animals. And the snow sounded as if it were brittle as it crunched beneath the hesitant hooves. Surefooted as he knew the steeds to be, it was distressingly evident that even they were fighting to find their way through the swirling snow. But they finally drew up to the place where the road leveled off and began to stretch across the winding pass; except, there was no pass.
A blanket of snow, as tall as a Cave Troll, obscured any evidence of where the meandering trail actually lay. Sam thought it should be hugging the shoulder of the mountain. But even if they could locate it, it would still be impassible. A suicidal plunge waited to greet any misstep. And the mounts looked as terrified by the prospect as did his Halfling companions. He turned to Radagast, but the Wizard had gotten down from his horse. He thrust his budding Staff into the nearest snow bank as he put his flute to his mouth. After blowing forth an eerie melody, he began to sing:
Song of the High Pass
(The First Refrain of Radagast the Green)
Feel now the call of spring
Wake to the song I sing
Push through the fallen snow
Rise up and grow
Reach up and intertwine
Open a hall of vine
Shelter us on our way
Do as I say
Hear and obey
With the first note from the Wizard's mouth, the hobbits all believed they were hearing some trick of the mountain's echo. There were two distinct voices. But there was no delay between the sounds. And they were not only concurrent with each other; they actually harmonized. After a few phrases, they suddenly realized that Radagast was, incredibly, singing in stereo. And as startling as that was, his lute also seemed to be accompanying him; despite the fact that he appeared only to be holding it in position against the wind, restraining it with but a single hand. And yet, even as overwhelming as these auditory events were, the visual result was far more awe-inspiring.
Almost immediately, tendrils of impossible green growth began to push up through the snow banks, shoving them out of the way. Not only was the location of the path exposed, but the vines also began to interlace above it, forming a canopy that prevented the fresh snowfall from overlaying it again. It reminded Sam of the intertwining branches in some of the Elven artwork at Rivendell. And they finally crossed the High Pass by riding through a tunnel of intricately interwoven growth. Not even the wind was able to accost them. Their main problem was keeping the animals from stopping to graze.
