All too soon it was time for them to leave Minas Tirith. They
travelled first to Edoras to bury Theoden. The King and Queen of Gondor
went as well, to pay their respects to the fallen King, and in support of
the reigning King of Rohan.
When Theoden was finally laid to rest, Merry cried long and hard over the loss of his friend. Pippin stood by his side, offering silent support as always. Afterwards, at the wake, Eomer announced the engagement of his sister, Eowyn, to the Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, Faramir.
When she had a moment with Aragorn, Eowyn smiled up at the man she once believed she loved. "Wish me joy, my Lord."
Aragorn smiled warmly back. "I have only ever wished thee joy, Lady."
Dawn watched them happily from her seat beside Thranduil. Gimli had come over and demanded Legolas accompany him to mingle with the crowd in the room, the Dwarf not being overly comfortable with all the society swirling around him, leaving Dawn with her father in-law.
"Now, Dawn, are you paying attention?" Thranduil asked in his best tutor's voice. The King had taken it upon himself to teach his land's new Princess about Elvish legend and lore, and the language.
Dawn snapped back to attention. "Yessir," she quipped and launched into a rundown of all she had just learned. "The Valar, like that Elbereth chick are like the Gods of all things Elfy and the Undying Lands are where y'all go to rest when you've had enough of this place. Like suicide, only happier and with ships sailing from the Grey Havens. Are they really grey? Because grey is kind of depressing, though I guess it fits with the suicide theme.... without the happy...." she trailed off, having just spoken herself into confused circles, dragging Thranduil along with her.
"Yes, that seems about right, my dear. I think," Thranduil eventually responded, drawing chuckles from Elrond and Gandalf across the table.
"What?" Dawn whined at them in a pout. "What's so funny? Bunch of stuffy British Librarian types," she muttered to herself.
"Nothing is funny," Thranduil assured her, sending an amused glance to his old friends, though his eyes were begging them to hold their composure for his sake. "You are doing very well, Dawn. Now, can you remember where I told you the spirits of Elves who were slain in battle went?" he asked, sounding so much like Giles that Dawn couldn't resist giving the first answer that popped into her head.
She shrugged. "I dunno- Mexico?" she shot back, green eyes innocently widened and Thranduil knew the lesson was over.
He sighed. "Perhaps we shall move on to language then. I want to teach you as much as possible while we are in the presence of so many who speak Elvish, so you may practise while you are away, ready for your coming to your new home." The King had spoken with an air of authority about him, and Dawn knew he meant business, but she could see the hint of excitement flickering in the cool blue-grey depths of his eyes as he spoke of her coming to Mirkwood. Legolas had whispered to her on the trip from Minas Tirith to Edoras that it was practically all his father spoke of now, and that he hadn't seen him so excited in decades.
Before she knew it, Dawn found an entire class full of teachers and students had sprung up around her. The Elves, Gandalf and Aragorn had all began to toss in helpful suggestions and phrases to Thranduil's lesson, and just as Dawn was beginning to feel bombarded on all sides, a few interested beings drifted over to learn a thing or two. Soon the entire non-Elvish speaking population of the room was attentively listening and repeating the words and phrases being fired at them.
In the midst of the hectic lesson, Legolas grasped Dawn's wrist and they slipped out of the room, unnoticed but for one pair of grey eyes, who's owner was smirking at the memory of his friend's disappearing act the last time they had visited Edoras.
"This is much better than studying," Dawn murmured she and Legolas stumbled down the hallway towards their bedroom, more intent on each other than the path before them.
"Mm-hmm," Legolas replied distractedly, with his attention focused on untangling the lace-up bodice of Dawn's gown. Dawn's hand fumbled for the doorknob and when she turned it, the pair crashed through the door together and it slammed behind them forcefully.
* * * * *
A depleted group rode on from Edoras to Isengard, where Gandalf and Aragorn wanted to see how Treebeard was doing with his prisoners. Arwen stayed behind, Faramir would escort her back to Gondor for Aragorn, and Eomer and Eowyn were already home. Thranduil was not continuing with the party, either. He rode out at the same time, but he headed towards Mirkwood to bring them the news that within a year their Prince would return, bringing his bride with him.
When they reached Isengard, however, the tower of Orthanc was empty. Treebeard informed them that Saruman and Wormtongue had left a week earlier, but the tower had been locked tight, and the Ent handed the keys over to Aragorn, who now claimed Lordship over the slowly healing land.
While the King and the Wizard walked around Isengard, inspecting it and praising the Ents for the work they had done to restore a sense of nature to the place after Saruman's fires of industry had almost destroyed it, Legolas drew Dawn aside.
"So... guess this is it," she said quietly. The sadness emanated from her, and Legolas stroked her cheek in a soothing motion. He tried to keep his tone light for her sake, but his own heavy heart betrayed him.
"Dawny, remember- minimal mileage," he told her, mimicking her phrase.
Though a few stray tears had slipped out of the corner of her eye, Dawn smiled. "You've never done that before, called me Dawny."
Legolas kissed her long and soft in response. When they broke apart, Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but Dawn beat him to it.
"Mela lle, amin Taren." /Love you, my Prince/
"Amin mela lle, Tarien. You've been practising," he laughed. /I love you, Princess/
"Just a little."
Each was reluctant to end the light conversation, knowing it would be the last time they would speak in months. The gentle but insistent clearing of a Dwarf's throat nearby informed them that the others were now waiting on them.
They turned to Gimli who gave an apologetic look. "Legolas... it is time for us to go."
"You will keep him out of trouble, right?" she looked pointedly at Gimli. "'Cause if I have to come out in the wilderness looking for the two of you in the middle of my Hobbit-holiday, there's gonna be Hell to pay. And I know of a law firm in LA who can give that a literal meaning," Dawn mock threatened. It wasn't as if she'd ever turn to Wolfram and Hart, who even when she had died were only just regrouping after the destruction the Beast wrought upon the evil firm.
Gimli chuckled roughly to mask his confusion. Who in Middle-Earth knew what a law firm was? "Aye, I will keep him out of trouble Dawn. Why else would I agree to delve into the depths of the Fangorn Forest?"
Dawn laughed, leaning in to give the Dwarf a hug. "Have fun Gimli. And take care of yourself, while you're at it, ok?"
"That I will. Goodbye, Dawn." He stepped back to allow the couple one last chance to say their farewells.
"I will meet you on the road, I think you will know when. I will miss you too much until then, melamin," Legolas swore.
"I know. I'll miss you too. Love you," Dawn offered a teary smile. "See ya."
Legolas smiled. "See ya," he echoed, knowing she enjoyed hearing him speak in her strange dialect of Westron, which she had once told Eowyn was a form of 'Valley-speak'. After another kiss which conveyed more emotion than either had been able to express with words, Legolas turned and bade farewell to his friends before following Gimli towards a thicket of trees.
When Dawn turned away, Aragorn was just pulling out of an embrace with Elladan. Dawn frowned. He knew the two were foster brothers, but what reason did they have to be hugging right at this very moment?
The King of Men made his way to where Dawn was standing, a little apart from the others, hastily wiping at the few tears that had trickled down her cheeks.
"It is time for me to go, Seler'nin. I must return to Minas Tirith."
"Right now? This very moment?" Dawn returned, half-whining, half- sarcastic.
"Yes, 'tis growing late in the day," Aragorn explained, looking towards the sun and entirely missing the half-sarcastic spin of the words.
"Wow," Dawn mused, letting her sarcasm reign, as she often did when in emotional turmoil. "My husband and my big brother leaving me all within the space of five minutes. Gee, it's a good thing I've never had abandonment issues- oh wait!- I have."
"Dawny..." Aragorn murmured, wondering how to soothe her.
Dawn shook her head, bringing her emotions and behaviour into check. "No, Estel, I'm sorry. I know you have lots to do now that you're a big important master of the universe," she offered a lopsided grin.
"I do not want to be parted from you, little sister-"
"Hey, don't you have a Kingdom to run, King-guy?" Dawn interrupted, motioning towards the road back in the direction they had come. She smiled and hugged him hard.
It was several long moments before either was willing to let the other go. "Come and visit me soon," Aragorn whispered, realising with a start how much he would miss this mass of vibrant energy he had become so accustomed to having around.
"You bet, Estel."
With a quick kiss to his cheek, Dawn stepped back and let him go.
* * * * *
Six days after leaving Isengard, they came to the foot of the Misty Mountains, which they were to follow alongside of. Coming out into open country at sundown, they overtook an old man leaning on a staff. He was wearing rags that were either grey or dirty white, they couldn't tell which, and another beggar slouched and whined at his heels.
"Well Saruman, where are you going?" said Gandalf, recognising the fallen Wizard. The others stood silent to watch the confrontation with interest.
Saruman scowled at them. "What is that to you?" he answered. "Will you still order my comings and goings, and are you not content with my ruin?"
Gandalf stared unfalteringly at Saruman. "You know the answers: no and no. But in any case the time of my labours now draws to an end, the King has now taken on the burden. If you had waited at Orthanc, you would have seen him, and he would have shown you wisdom and mercy."
Again Saruman scowled. "All the more reason to have left sooner, and I am seeking a way out of his realm."
"Then you're going the wrong way, but we offer you our help one more time. Will you scorn it?"
The once leader of the Istari flicked his eyes towards Galadriel. "As for the Lady here, I do not trust her; she always hated me, and schemed for your part. I do not doubt that she has brought you this way to have the pleasure of gloating over my poverty. Had I been warned of your pursuit, I would have denied you the pleasure."
"Saruman," Galadriel broke in, a hint of a patronising smile gracing her fair features. "We have other errands and other cares that seem to us more urgent than hunting for you. Say rather that you are overtaken by good fortune; for now you have a last chance."
The barest smirk crossed Dawn's features at the way the Elven Queen condescendingly, but not snidely dismissed Saruman, and the Wizard-turned- beggar caught it. He turned to Dawn, eyes glittering as he once again marvelled at the power within her. Gone was the turmoil that had plagued her thoughts and feelings when he had failed to corrupt her at Orthanc, and in their place was an overwhelming sense of contentment and control.
"Ah, insolent girl, we meet again. Disappointing it is that you have refused the offer of this kindly old man..."
Dawn silenced him with a wave of her hand. It had been almost a week since both Legolas and Aragorn had parted ways with her and she was too busy missing them to even bother with this creep. "Uh, that's Princess Insolent Girl to you, Ass-clown, and I think I'm better off without the stinky rags and the greasy slimeball you've got at your feet. So why don't you shut up and..." she made a shooing gesture with her hand, "Before I have to sing again." She resisted the temptation to flip him off. She was a Princess now, she reminded herself, she could not go around giving the finger whenever she felt like it.
Saruman glared at her thunderously for a minute, but when it became apparent that Dawn was not in the least intimidated, he turned back to Galadriel.
"If this is truly the last chance you offer, I am glad, for I shall be spared the trouble of refusing it again," his tone turned threatening, but they all dismissed his words as idle. "You have doomed yourselves, and you know it. And it will afford me some comfort as I wander to think that you pulled down your own house when you destroyed mine."
Dawn rolled her eyes. Who did this guy think he was kidding? They watched as he turned and gave Grima a sound whack with his powerless staff. "Get up you idiot!" he shouted. "Turn about! If these fine folk are going our way, then we will take another. Get on, or I'll give you no crust for your supper!"
Grima slouched past, whimpering how abused he was, and how he wished he could leave Saruman.
"Then leave him!" Gandalf suggested.
"Duh," chimed in Dawn.
But Wormtongue was too terrified of Gandalf to do more than shoot him a glance out of his bleared eyes as he shuffled behind Saruman, who, having come to the Hobbits, stopped and stared at them, only to have four sets of eyes rest on him with pity.
Saruman asked them for pipeweed, and Merry handed him what little he had left, considering it came from the flotsam of Isengard, in any event.
"Mine, mine, yes and dearly bought!" cried Saruman upon hearing this. He clutched at Merry's leather pouch full of the weed. "This is only a repayment in token, for you took more, I'll be bound. Still, a beggar must be grateful if a thief returns to him even a morsel of his own. Well, it will serve you right when you come home, if you find things less good in the Southfarthing than you would like. Long may your land be short of Leaf!' he cursed.
"Thank you," responded Merry. "In that case I will have my pouch back. Wrap the weed in a rag of your own."
"One thief deserves another," Saruman sneered. He turned his back on Merry and kicked Wormtongue as they made their way away from the group.
The Hobbits began discussing Saruman's words and threats, a sense of foreboding settling over them. They decided, after hearing Gandalf's affirmation that Saruman was indeed still capable of mischief, however small, that they should make for Rivendell to see Bilbo soon as may be, so they could get home that much quicker.
Soon enough, Celeborn and Galadriel said their farewells, turning eastward to make their way into Lothlorien and not long after seeing the bright white flash of Galadriel holding up her ring Nenya from a distance as a final farewell, the rest of the dwindling travel party reached the deep valley where Rivendell was nestled safely.
"There it is- the last Homely House, the House of Elrond," Elrohir told Dawn proudly.
"Awesome," Dawn said, truly impressed with the beauty of Rivendell.
* * * * *
A/N: Just a couple of chapters to go now, we're well and truly in the home stretch of this one! Hope you're still interested, R&R please. ~Anoron
When Theoden was finally laid to rest, Merry cried long and hard over the loss of his friend. Pippin stood by his side, offering silent support as always. Afterwards, at the wake, Eomer announced the engagement of his sister, Eowyn, to the Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, Faramir.
When she had a moment with Aragorn, Eowyn smiled up at the man she once believed she loved. "Wish me joy, my Lord."
Aragorn smiled warmly back. "I have only ever wished thee joy, Lady."
Dawn watched them happily from her seat beside Thranduil. Gimli had come over and demanded Legolas accompany him to mingle with the crowd in the room, the Dwarf not being overly comfortable with all the society swirling around him, leaving Dawn with her father in-law.
"Now, Dawn, are you paying attention?" Thranduil asked in his best tutor's voice. The King had taken it upon himself to teach his land's new Princess about Elvish legend and lore, and the language.
Dawn snapped back to attention. "Yessir," she quipped and launched into a rundown of all she had just learned. "The Valar, like that Elbereth chick are like the Gods of all things Elfy and the Undying Lands are where y'all go to rest when you've had enough of this place. Like suicide, only happier and with ships sailing from the Grey Havens. Are they really grey? Because grey is kind of depressing, though I guess it fits with the suicide theme.... without the happy...." she trailed off, having just spoken herself into confused circles, dragging Thranduil along with her.
"Yes, that seems about right, my dear. I think," Thranduil eventually responded, drawing chuckles from Elrond and Gandalf across the table.
"What?" Dawn whined at them in a pout. "What's so funny? Bunch of stuffy British Librarian types," she muttered to herself.
"Nothing is funny," Thranduil assured her, sending an amused glance to his old friends, though his eyes were begging them to hold their composure for his sake. "You are doing very well, Dawn. Now, can you remember where I told you the spirits of Elves who were slain in battle went?" he asked, sounding so much like Giles that Dawn couldn't resist giving the first answer that popped into her head.
She shrugged. "I dunno- Mexico?" she shot back, green eyes innocently widened and Thranduil knew the lesson was over.
He sighed. "Perhaps we shall move on to language then. I want to teach you as much as possible while we are in the presence of so many who speak Elvish, so you may practise while you are away, ready for your coming to your new home." The King had spoken with an air of authority about him, and Dawn knew he meant business, but she could see the hint of excitement flickering in the cool blue-grey depths of his eyes as he spoke of her coming to Mirkwood. Legolas had whispered to her on the trip from Minas Tirith to Edoras that it was practically all his father spoke of now, and that he hadn't seen him so excited in decades.
Before she knew it, Dawn found an entire class full of teachers and students had sprung up around her. The Elves, Gandalf and Aragorn had all began to toss in helpful suggestions and phrases to Thranduil's lesson, and just as Dawn was beginning to feel bombarded on all sides, a few interested beings drifted over to learn a thing or two. Soon the entire non-Elvish speaking population of the room was attentively listening and repeating the words and phrases being fired at them.
In the midst of the hectic lesson, Legolas grasped Dawn's wrist and they slipped out of the room, unnoticed but for one pair of grey eyes, who's owner was smirking at the memory of his friend's disappearing act the last time they had visited Edoras.
"This is much better than studying," Dawn murmured she and Legolas stumbled down the hallway towards their bedroom, more intent on each other than the path before them.
"Mm-hmm," Legolas replied distractedly, with his attention focused on untangling the lace-up bodice of Dawn's gown. Dawn's hand fumbled for the doorknob and when she turned it, the pair crashed through the door together and it slammed behind them forcefully.
* * * * *
A depleted group rode on from Edoras to Isengard, where Gandalf and Aragorn wanted to see how Treebeard was doing with his prisoners. Arwen stayed behind, Faramir would escort her back to Gondor for Aragorn, and Eomer and Eowyn were already home. Thranduil was not continuing with the party, either. He rode out at the same time, but he headed towards Mirkwood to bring them the news that within a year their Prince would return, bringing his bride with him.
When they reached Isengard, however, the tower of Orthanc was empty. Treebeard informed them that Saruman and Wormtongue had left a week earlier, but the tower had been locked tight, and the Ent handed the keys over to Aragorn, who now claimed Lordship over the slowly healing land.
While the King and the Wizard walked around Isengard, inspecting it and praising the Ents for the work they had done to restore a sense of nature to the place after Saruman's fires of industry had almost destroyed it, Legolas drew Dawn aside.
"So... guess this is it," she said quietly. The sadness emanated from her, and Legolas stroked her cheek in a soothing motion. He tried to keep his tone light for her sake, but his own heavy heart betrayed him.
"Dawny, remember- minimal mileage," he told her, mimicking her phrase.
Though a few stray tears had slipped out of the corner of her eye, Dawn smiled. "You've never done that before, called me Dawny."
Legolas kissed her long and soft in response. When they broke apart, Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but Dawn beat him to it.
"Mela lle, amin Taren." /Love you, my Prince/
"Amin mela lle, Tarien. You've been practising," he laughed. /I love you, Princess/
"Just a little."
Each was reluctant to end the light conversation, knowing it would be the last time they would speak in months. The gentle but insistent clearing of a Dwarf's throat nearby informed them that the others were now waiting on them.
They turned to Gimli who gave an apologetic look. "Legolas... it is time for us to go."
"You will keep him out of trouble, right?" she looked pointedly at Gimli. "'Cause if I have to come out in the wilderness looking for the two of you in the middle of my Hobbit-holiday, there's gonna be Hell to pay. And I know of a law firm in LA who can give that a literal meaning," Dawn mock threatened. It wasn't as if she'd ever turn to Wolfram and Hart, who even when she had died were only just regrouping after the destruction the Beast wrought upon the evil firm.
Gimli chuckled roughly to mask his confusion. Who in Middle-Earth knew what a law firm was? "Aye, I will keep him out of trouble Dawn. Why else would I agree to delve into the depths of the Fangorn Forest?"
Dawn laughed, leaning in to give the Dwarf a hug. "Have fun Gimli. And take care of yourself, while you're at it, ok?"
"That I will. Goodbye, Dawn." He stepped back to allow the couple one last chance to say their farewells.
"I will meet you on the road, I think you will know when. I will miss you too much until then, melamin," Legolas swore.
"I know. I'll miss you too. Love you," Dawn offered a teary smile. "See ya."
Legolas smiled. "See ya," he echoed, knowing she enjoyed hearing him speak in her strange dialect of Westron, which she had once told Eowyn was a form of 'Valley-speak'. After another kiss which conveyed more emotion than either had been able to express with words, Legolas turned and bade farewell to his friends before following Gimli towards a thicket of trees.
When Dawn turned away, Aragorn was just pulling out of an embrace with Elladan. Dawn frowned. He knew the two were foster brothers, but what reason did they have to be hugging right at this very moment?
The King of Men made his way to where Dawn was standing, a little apart from the others, hastily wiping at the few tears that had trickled down her cheeks.
"It is time for me to go, Seler'nin. I must return to Minas Tirith."
"Right now? This very moment?" Dawn returned, half-whining, half- sarcastic.
"Yes, 'tis growing late in the day," Aragorn explained, looking towards the sun and entirely missing the half-sarcastic spin of the words.
"Wow," Dawn mused, letting her sarcasm reign, as she often did when in emotional turmoil. "My husband and my big brother leaving me all within the space of five minutes. Gee, it's a good thing I've never had abandonment issues- oh wait!- I have."
"Dawny..." Aragorn murmured, wondering how to soothe her.
Dawn shook her head, bringing her emotions and behaviour into check. "No, Estel, I'm sorry. I know you have lots to do now that you're a big important master of the universe," she offered a lopsided grin.
"I do not want to be parted from you, little sister-"
"Hey, don't you have a Kingdom to run, King-guy?" Dawn interrupted, motioning towards the road back in the direction they had come. She smiled and hugged him hard.
It was several long moments before either was willing to let the other go. "Come and visit me soon," Aragorn whispered, realising with a start how much he would miss this mass of vibrant energy he had become so accustomed to having around.
"You bet, Estel."
With a quick kiss to his cheek, Dawn stepped back and let him go.
* * * * *
Six days after leaving Isengard, they came to the foot of the Misty Mountains, which they were to follow alongside of. Coming out into open country at sundown, they overtook an old man leaning on a staff. He was wearing rags that were either grey or dirty white, they couldn't tell which, and another beggar slouched and whined at his heels.
"Well Saruman, where are you going?" said Gandalf, recognising the fallen Wizard. The others stood silent to watch the confrontation with interest.
Saruman scowled at them. "What is that to you?" he answered. "Will you still order my comings and goings, and are you not content with my ruin?"
Gandalf stared unfalteringly at Saruman. "You know the answers: no and no. But in any case the time of my labours now draws to an end, the King has now taken on the burden. If you had waited at Orthanc, you would have seen him, and he would have shown you wisdom and mercy."
Again Saruman scowled. "All the more reason to have left sooner, and I am seeking a way out of his realm."
"Then you're going the wrong way, but we offer you our help one more time. Will you scorn it?"
The once leader of the Istari flicked his eyes towards Galadriel. "As for the Lady here, I do not trust her; she always hated me, and schemed for your part. I do not doubt that she has brought you this way to have the pleasure of gloating over my poverty. Had I been warned of your pursuit, I would have denied you the pleasure."
"Saruman," Galadriel broke in, a hint of a patronising smile gracing her fair features. "We have other errands and other cares that seem to us more urgent than hunting for you. Say rather that you are overtaken by good fortune; for now you have a last chance."
The barest smirk crossed Dawn's features at the way the Elven Queen condescendingly, but not snidely dismissed Saruman, and the Wizard-turned- beggar caught it. He turned to Dawn, eyes glittering as he once again marvelled at the power within her. Gone was the turmoil that had plagued her thoughts and feelings when he had failed to corrupt her at Orthanc, and in their place was an overwhelming sense of contentment and control.
"Ah, insolent girl, we meet again. Disappointing it is that you have refused the offer of this kindly old man..."
Dawn silenced him with a wave of her hand. It had been almost a week since both Legolas and Aragorn had parted ways with her and she was too busy missing them to even bother with this creep. "Uh, that's Princess Insolent Girl to you, Ass-clown, and I think I'm better off without the stinky rags and the greasy slimeball you've got at your feet. So why don't you shut up and..." she made a shooing gesture with her hand, "Before I have to sing again." She resisted the temptation to flip him off. She was a Princess now, she reminded herself, she could not go around giving the finger whenever she felt like it.
Saruman glared at her thunderously for a minute, but when it became apparent that Dawn was not in the least intimidated, he turned back to Galadriel.
"If this is truly the last chance you offer, I am glad, for I shall be spared the trouble of refusing it again," his tone turned threatening, but they all dismissed his words as idle. "You have doomed yourselves, and you know it. And it will afford me some comfort as I wander to think that you pulled down your own house when you destroyed mine."
Dawn rolled her eyes. Who did this guy think he was kidding? They watched as he turned and gave Grima a sound whack with his powerless staff. "Get up you idiot!" he shouted. "Turn about! If these fine folk are going our way, then we will take another. Get on, or I'll give you no crust for your supper!"
Grima slouched past, whimpering how abused he was, and how he wished he could leave Saruman.
"Then leave him!" Gandalf suggested.
"Duh," chimed in Dawn.
But Wormtongue was too terrified of Gandalf to do more than shoot him a glance out of his bleared eyes as he shuffled behind Saruman, who, having come to the Hobbits, stopped and stared at them, only to have four sets of eyes rest on him with pity.
Saruman asked them for pipeweed, and Merry handed him what little he had left, considering it came from the flotsam of Isengard, in any event.
"Mine, mine, yes and dearly bought!" cried Saruman upon hearing this. He clutched at Merry's leather pouch full of the weed. "This is only a repayment in token, for you took more, I'll be bound. Still, a beggar must be grateful if a thief returns to him even a morsel of his own. Well, it will serve you right when you come home, if you find things less good in the Southfarthing than you would like. Long may your land be short of Leaf!' he cursed.
"Thank you," responded Merry. "In that case I will have my pouch back. Wrap the weed in a rag of your own."
"One thief deserves another," Saruman sneered. He turned his back on Merry and kicked Wormtongue as they made their way away from the group.
The Hobbits began discussing Saruman's words and threats, a sense of foreboding settling over them. They decided, after hearing Gandalf's affirmation that Saruman was indeed still capable of mischief, however small, that they should make for Rivendell to see Bilbo soon as may be, so they could get home that much quicker.
Soon enough, Celeborn and Galadriel said their farewells, turning eastward to make their way into Lothlorien and not long after seeing the bright white flash of Galadriel holding up her ring Nenya from a distance as a final farewell, the rest of the dwindling travel party reached the deep valley where Rivendell was nestled safely.
"There it is- the last Homely House, the House of Elrond," Elrohir told Dawn proudly.
"Awesome," Dawn said, truly impressed with the beauty of Rivendell.
* * * * *
A/N: Just a couple of chapters to go now, we're well and truly in the home stretch of this one! Hope you're still interested, R&R please. ~Anoron