These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.
They could not travel long their first day. After a couple of hours Pippin's swelling grew fat and pink as a pig. As more hours went by he was hardly moving forward. Far behind the elf he lagged, taking tiny steps attempting to lessen the hurt.
Looking back at the gap created between him and Pippin's hobbling pace, Legolas deemed they were due their rest for the night. He trotted back to the hobbit, "Let us stop here and make ready for the night. We shall eat and dream away this dreadful day."
But Pippin urged they continue (he felt very guilty), Legolas said, "Nay, we will not travel on, but rest. By all accounts it is perfect, thick, woody coverage overhead and there lay a stream to fill our bags with water."
Suddenly, he caught an idea. He lifted the hobbit in his arms, carried him to the nearby trickle of water and sat him on a large stone at the foot of the stream. Legolas dipped his hand in the clear water. "As I expected, freezing like newly melted snow. Submerge your ankle into it and keep there for as long as you can bare. Blood in the swelling thins and your pain will be relieved. "
The tips of the hobbit's toes were first to touch the icy stream and he paused before he continued again. Initially, the iciness felt as if a thousand tiny knives were stabbing his poor hobbit foot. Then came a numbness, less painful but equally discomforting. He could withstand the experience no further and lifted his foot from the chilled waters.
Legolas handled a drawstring bag, opened it and withdrew it's contents folded in linen cloth, hiding something between it's layers. The elf uncovered little leaf wrapped packages, clearly a dozen of them. In one arm, Legolas balanced the goodies and tore half the linen with his other hand and mouth. One of leaf packages tumbled to the ground and opening up the surprise inside. Pippin's eyes widen and his mouth watered for the treats. "Cake! Golden cakes! And you hold plenty to share. Bless you all the more!" he exclaimed. "My hunger and ankle are healed!"
"Pay no mind to these. They are reserved for a more desperate time, not the present." Refolded in to the torn cloth, the little cakes disappeared inside the elf's velvet bag.
"You play a wicked game, Master Elf." Pippin muttered with a broken heart.
Into smaller strips Legolas ripped the remaining linen and with them tightly contained the swelling around Pip's ankle. They returned to their campsite where Legolas built a small fire. He continued his aid to the hobbit by wrapping a blanket around his feet to chase the chill away. "Stay your feet close to the blaze's warmth, but do not shift too close lest you warm your feet by setting them on fire."
It wasn't until Pippin's snoring did Legolas wait to search their area yonder. Scarcely the presence of the others in the Company could be felt, they were very far from where he stood. Perking his ears to hear past the silence, a sound reached him and his mind set a fright – wolves.
***
Six days now the Company of Two traveled through the valley, towards the crossroad of the canyon's end and the high road, to the land of Hollin*. Each night, the howl of wolves can be heard to the ears of elves. Far off they were yet to be picked up by the hobbit's senses. But Pippin had other worries. His stomach pained with hunger and though the bloated mass around his foot lulled, it was weak and hurt when the walks were long.
Pippin learned peculiar Elven traits while on his lonely journey with Legolas. Remarkably clean stayed the elf while dirt and grime flew all round Pippin, fastening to his face, hands and tangling nature's refuse atop his curled hair. Together they walked the same steps and each day, at the close of their hike, Pippin was sordid, and conversely Legolas seemed to shine, bathed in a healthy glow. During rests in their daily journey and before they took their final rest at night, the elf refreshed himself with water on his face and neck. However, even if Pippin were to take five baths, he would not look as clean as Legolas kept himself.
Reflecting back to the memory on their third night, when they readied for sleep, Pippin sang one of Bilbo's old tunes he favored so, and Legolas enjoyed listening. Pippin called it a bed-song* for it ended with 'And then to bed! And then to bed!*' though truthfully, it was a walking some. At the final verse, it was not very long, he glanced over to Legolas who was motionless looking in to a dream. At length Pippin watched him, waiting for him to fall out of reverie. Had his musings sent the elf in to an irreversible trance? The stun of his bewitching gift compared little to the phenomenon he was truly witnessing. Each night when they slept, weariness was first to take over the hobbit before it cast slumber on the elf. This night, Pippin would be last to sleep and saw the elf slept with his eyes open! Unheard of and unnerving this was to a hobbit!
Legolas once said to Pippin, " …there are as many differences between you and I as there are stars that light the sky." And the biggest difference Pippin was a hobbit's knack for talking story of friends, family and their simple, hobbit comforts. Legolas lost count of the numerous times Pippin spoke of his misadventures with Merry and Frodo. He detailed time and time again the family branches of Tooks and Brandybucks, referencing the birth features from these great families bequeathed to him and his older siblings, Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca.
The elf was not always silent, he told tales of his elder elven folk, fair yet heavy hearted, and of distant lands over sea. Most tunes he worded in the Common Speech but Pippin was delighted to hear his Sindarin tongue unravel stories of old. But nowhere did Legolas speak of his own kindred. Pippin knew nothing of the warrior elf's mother, father, sisters and brothers; perhaps he was orphaned like Frodo and taken in by a kindly uncle. He was not curious to know, but rather took note they were never spoken of.
These wondering thoughts kept Pippin silent while they walked this last hour. Legolas called them to break. They drank from their water skins and gnawed on handfuls of dried meats. Upon the command of the elf, Pippin was put on rations until they returned to the company who carried the bulk of their food supply. The woods were bare; winterberries did not plant on the valley floor. Should Pippin remain to eat in the manner he was accustomed, they would starve by day's end. The little cakes he glimpsed in the velvet bag haunted his mind and he accused the elf of selfishness. Legolas plainly ignored him.
Pippin took another gash at his meat and chewed hard. "I miss Frodo, Merry and Sam. How is their half of the adventure unfolding, I wonder." As usual, Pippin spoke while his company listened. He was not rightly sure if Legolas' ears dedicated any attention to him, but no hints were given to keep quiet and he found comfort in rattling on and on as he did. "I think of Bill, too."
Legolas threw Pippin a strange look, communicating silently the oddness of Bill's mention.
The hobbit retorted his gaze with a harsher one. "What is it?" he added.
"Were the choice mine, a grander Rivendell horse would carry our loads and Bill kept behind. I—"
Pippin interjected loudly, "Your opinion hardly matters. Had you seen him in Bree, poor, wretched, nobbly-kneed, he was rejuvenated when we took him to the city of elves, growing stronger with every blade of Rivendell grass he et. Bill is dedicated to us hobbits. Samwise Gamgee would ram you flat on your back if he heard such an utter. No elf-pony could love and serve us as our beloved Bill! Blast my foot or I would ram you myself!" He folded his arms in a huff.
To which Legolas calmly replied, "Your fiery tongue also speaks you are rested plenty. A wearisome creature has no strength to roar as you do. You are well to start our march again." Legolas shifted to his feet and held out his hand to assist Pippin on his. "Come now, I meant no jest of it. On your feet Mr. Peregrin."
***
Night fell over them as the last of the cloudy light dipped under the horizon. Legolas scouted an alcove carved in the rocks against the valley face. Flat and comfortable was the bedroom space nature seemed to prepare for them. A large flat boulder roofed above, supported by three walls of stone. Boughs of evergreen bushes were laid down to comfort the earthy floor. At the open entrance was an ideal spot for a hearth, but there would be no fire to light, it would alert the wolves of their camp.
"Then we will freeze in the night." Pippin miserably said.
"You may sleep while the chill freezes your blood or have your head chopped by the fangs of a wild dog. I will choose for us—there will be no fire tonight. Stay on your guard, they are coming. Our best protection is to go unnoticed." Before the dawn would arise the pack of wolves would be at their feet. Legolas could hear them traveling, panting and sniffing, the wolves tracked their scent and began to hunt.
Quivering and frightened, Pippin chewed his supper without uttering a sound. Legolas was on full alert, hardly taking food or drink. He kept quiet and watchful through the dark trees. Every movement the elf made Pippin startled himself, ready to spring in to action, whatever that maybe, probably to run. But where? Wolves were faster than horses and could bring down a herd of them during a racing stampede. Hobbit legs are inefficient to run while being chased and his injury would mark him easier to seize. The thoughts pounded his heartbeats faster than he could ever run, what outcome can be made from this? Pippin could determine only the worst.
Pippin's imaginings faded and the reality could be heard in Legolas' ears. "Pippin, we must stay atop our shelter to look down onto them. Take your sword and stay close to me."
Armed with his quiver and knives, Legolas exited their shelter and called again after the hobbit. Pippin met the elf, after hesitating only a little, on top of the stone. Legolas drew an arrow and equipped his quiver, pulling tightly he stayed level aim at the beasts racing towards them. The tiny hobbit unsheathed his sword, shifting his weight nervously, half way hiding behind the elf. As the wolves came in to his view he wished he never laid eyes on those cursed winterberries.
* Denotes Tolkien references.
++ Thank you all for your reviews, I was so happy to read them! I'm glad you are enjoying this little story and hope you will continue to read on. Tindomerel: Thanks for the idea, I love it! I hope to make an adaptation in the next chapter. ++