These characters are not my own. They belong to JRR Tolkien.
Dusk settled as the weary group retired after traveling over ten hours breaking only for moments. Strider started the fire Sam cooked over to feed the others. Singing from Frodo and Merry accompanied the meal; some lyrics were nonsensical, sung for amusement sake, much of that was needed here tonight. The Grey Wizard and Aragorn did not join in their merriment but their absence was hardly noticed. The two were in earshot of the delightful songs and they spoke silently between them, smoking from their wooden pipes.
It was not long when Aragorn bid all to retire. "Danger laden will our road be before us, though this night is less likely perilous. Let us rest early and begin at dawn."
In pile of leafy brush Merry made a bed for himself. Frodo and Sam copied his craft in a nook between large exposed roots holding down a towering tree. Propped up against the other side of the giant tree leaned Boromir hiding under his hood and Pippin was first on watch.
One by one, each of them fell fast asleep, nestled in between blankets and leaves. The last of the embers were a glow fading slowly as the night breeze blew past their campsite. Legolas remained awake, aside from Pippin. He patrolled the area, looking up in to the trees, gazing far in to the distance past anything Pippin could recognize with his night vision. The hobbit watched the elf dart from edge to edge of their clearing, peering, listening, and maybe even feeling any sense of disturbance. Assuredly, Legolas stepped close to the night watcher, "I am certain we are safe. Do not fear if you hear queer noises. It will only be the playfulness of nature scaring you."
Pippin nodded and eyed Legolas quick-stepping towards the road for one last look.
Growling in his stomach kept him awake and rather distracted from his night watcher duty. Out of his pockets, in a firm clothed pouch, he stored a handful of winterberries taken during their great breakfast. He quickly chewed and swallowed them. Worthless are a hobbit's eyes and ears if he is hungry. Better now that his stomach is settled for him to continue watch, sharpness returned to all his senses.
He heard a snapping sound followed by a flutter and a Nazgul shriek. He forgot not the sounds of the Black Riders as they escaped their grasp in Bree and when the Lord of the Nazgul stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. Now they are here!
The pit of his stomach turned sideways and coldness fell over his body. He clutched the hilt of his sword, took in three gasps of breath and jumped to his heels. Before Pippin could alarm the others with a yelp, a large hand covered his mouth and shook him.
"You must remain calm!" the voice said. Pippin turned as the hand released him. He discovered Legolas with a mocking smile. "It was only a night owl perched on a weakening branch that snapped, he hurriedly flew away." Legolas explained. In disgust with himself Pippin shifted his eyes, lowering his head.
"My stay in Rivendell rested me for a month of evenings. You desire much rest, young hobbit. Unravel your pack and make a good bed to sleep in. First watch will be mine tonight."
"No, Legolas, it will be mine." Pippin lifted his head and repositioned himself ready for guard.
"You find strength in fright. Or is it in pride?" Legolas teased as he drew closer to Pippin. "I require no sleep. 'Tis true what I said about my stay in Rivendell and I would like to keep company with you through your watch, should you bid it, of course."
"I should like your company very much, even if you remained silent." Pippin moved to share leaning space against the great tree with the elf. Both remained silent and alert. After an hour, Pippin's mind went back to the rolling grasses of the Shire. Abundance surrounded him, bright rays of sunlight, bottomless pitchers of ale, Old Toby pipeweed and food, warm, hot, comforting food, fried meats, baked breads, sautéed mushrooms and onions. The visions cloaked him like a blanket and he drifted into a dream, closing his eyes and slowing his breath. On his face he wore a smile and Legolas said to him in his mind, "Carry these images with you. Nothing on our journey ahead will give you joy save the sweet victory of our quest."
Gandalf roused Pippin, the last to awake. "Took," Gandalf said to him, "Take your breakfast now or we leave you where you lie." Nothing more did Gandalf have to say to get up Pippin. He was lucky to grab what was left of Sam's cooking and he ate it while readying to set out for the day.
Along side a cut edge of a steep valley, their march continued towards the dark lands of Mordor. The path was not troublesome nor was it wide. Small rock clusters in their path involved no difficulty in scaling but there were several uneven patches before them. The extra time uncalculated for worried Gandalf, they would not make their second night destination by sundown. Aragorn proposed they rest little tonight if it means securing the arrival to a safer haven for sleeping. "Rest is not rest if we cannot sleep under the comfort of concealment."
"Your words are wise and as a Ranger, you are an expert in this country's travel." Said Gandalf. "We will take your council."
Colder winds than yesterday blew on the Fellowship, a biting frost flew on the tips of the trailing air. Young Pippin pulled his cloak tighter and hid his hands for warmth. Amid the dropping temperatures and the news of a longer day's hike, both Merry and Pippin remained at ease and rather jovial, as it is the manner of hobbits. Their appreciation of nature was enriched by their journey as they found beauty in all things. Curiously, they spied the hibernating trees, naked in the leaf-less winter, the branches darkening in the cold and green shrubbery still alive in the dying season of winter.
"Oh, happy day!" cried Merry. "Look Pippin, there are winterberries!" He pointed to an evergreen bush speckled with the jewel-like nibbles of fruit. These pithy berries ranged in hues of reds, burgundy's and violets, though each of them were mildly tart and sweet, varied color did not vary in taste. They ran to the bush with their hungry hands outs. Sam heard their laughter from the front of the line and trotted back to join them. How could he have walked right past these delicious berries? The winterberry bushes anchored both sides of the trail and soon all the Nine members were berry picking for snacking now or saving for later. Pippin was crowded by the small mob, he looked for a way out and saw Legolas lonely harvesting a bush on the edge side, so he crawled between Boromir's ankles to join the elf.
There weren't enough berries to fill Pippin's stomach, which seemed infinite in space to the Company. With one hand he fed his mouth and with the other he filled his berry pouch for a later snacking. On the other side of the bush were more berries, bigger ones as they faced south. He lunged for them but they were farther out than his feet can remain on the edge.
"Pippin!" Legolas snapped and elves so rarely do, "Keep your feet beneath you! Starving or not, these berries will do little good if you fell in to the ravine."
He looked down at the thick, dry brambles far, far down below. "You are right, Master elf. I would lose my appetite for berries and all else should I fall." He quickly turned and shifted his weight to step closer the middle of road.
The ground crumbled, the sound of it echoed in Legolas' ears. Before Pippin could cry out, Legolas grabbed his pack to save him. The tiny hobbit teetered over the brink of a large fall, now it was the hands of an elf that would deliver him from this disaster. Still the hem of the valley was giving way, the dirt below Pippin's feet was dribbling pebble by pebble until it's foundation faltered bringing down the hobbit and the elf into the valley's pits down below.