El Mellon me suliad
El Mellon me mel
Ris el
Quenya mel, el mel, me mel
Star friend my greetings
Star friend my love
cleave the stars
elf love, star love, my love.
So Pippin sang, not quite correctly to be sure, but his heart was in the right place. Or maybe stomach would be the right word.
"I love you, Second Breakfast!" he sang. "You are my dearest thing! You make me want to sing! I will love you until the stars fall into the sea, and the mountains fall on me!"
"I wish the mountains would fall on you!" growled Gimli. "How many times does Gandalf have to tell you not to sing on your watch?"
"Not to mention your rather poor elvish," muttered Frodo. "It's a wonder Legolas doesn't take offence."
"It's a wonder that I don't take offence!" said Gimli.
"Be quiet, all of you. Pippin, please take the rest of your watch in silence. We don't need the Wargs upon us because they think that your singing is their mating call," Aragorn said, then turned over in his sleeping bag and went back to sleep. With much grumbling, the rest of the fellowship did the same. Pippin sighed and rested his chin on his arms.
"Second breakfast, you make me happy
Both my hands want to be clappy
You are my love 'til end of time
Please oh please will you be mine?" he whispered very quietly. He was pleased with that. He contented himself with whispering poetry until the end of his shift, when he was relieved by Gimli, who was less than curteous.
"I don't see why everyone hates my poetry," he thought as he drifted off. "There aren't many hobbits who can write such good stuff as I. Maybe I'll tell my new ones to Merry tomorrow."
Yes yes, my elvish stinks, so sue me. Just a little thing I wrote, no point or purpose. Review if you'd like.
El Mellon me mel
Ris el
Quenya mel, el mel, me mel
Star friend my greetings
Star friend my love
cleave the stars
elf love, star love, my love.
So Pippin sang, not quite correctly to be sure, but his heart was in the right place. Or maybe stomach would be the right word.
"I love you, Second Breakfast!" he sang. "You are my dearest thing! You make me want to sing! I will love you until the stars fall into the sea, and the mountains fall on me!"
"I wish the mountains would fall on you!" growled Gimli. "How many times does Gandalf have to tell you not to sing on your watch?"
"Not to mention your rather poor elvish," muttered Frodo. "It's a wonder Legolas doesn't take offence."
"It's a wonder that I don't take offence!" said Gimli.
"Be quiet, all of you. Pippin, please take the rest of your watch in silence. We don't need the Wargs upon us because they think that your singing is their mating call," Aragorn said, then turned over in his sleeping bag and went back to sleep. With much grumbling, the rest of the fellowship did the same. Pippin sighed and rested his chin on his arms.
"Second breakfast, you make me happy
Both my hands want to be clappy
You are my love 'til end of time
Please oh please will you be mine?" he whispered very quietly. He was pleased with that. He contented himself with whispering poetry until the end of his shift, when he was relieved by Gimli, who was less than curteous.
"I don't see why everyone hates my poetry," he thought as he drifted off. "There aren't many hobbits who can write such good stuff as I. Maybe I'll tell my new ones to Merry tomorrow."
Yes yes, my elvish stinks, so sue me. Just a little thing I wrote, no point or purpose. Review if you'd like.