Stupid horse.

#####################################################################

Stupid, stupid horse

#####################################################################

Why are elves supposed to like horses?

Horrible, arrogant brutes. I'm sure this one only wants to spite me. When I want it to move, it refuses to budge. And I thought I could be stubborn! Not in the league of this beast. I try gently encouraging, coaxing, bribing and it remains motionless, feet rooted firmly on the ground. Sometimes gazing at nothing in the distance, sometimes deliberately ignoring me and eating. It's always eating. Every few seconds, it bends its head down to tear up yet more grass.

It won't even respond to my threats, shouts and kicks. I know it hates me, it doesn't take much to figure that out. What I want to know is why.

And then, to cap it all off, every so often when I have finally got it to plod one foot slowly after another, it suddenly freezes, jerks its head upwards and bolts off in a random direction. I find myself clinging on for dear life. Arms desperately flung around its neck. Slowly slipping down, down towards the blur of fast moving ground and galloping horses hooves.

I really, really hate this horse.

#####################################################################

Last night I was camping near a small copse. I was sitting, relaxing by the fire when I caught sight of a pair of slitty yellow eyes peering at me through the gloom. My heartbeat skipped a jump, as I saw another pair slinking towards me. Close by I heard a wolf howl. A long mournful cry that made me shudder. My horse was terrified. Nervously stamping and glancing into the shadows. He desperately pulled at his tether. I tried to remember all I knew about wolves. They normally hunt in packs, picking out single victims rather than big groups. That didn't inspire me with much confidence. I was alone with only a small knife.

There were more of them now. Dark shadows creeping around the edges of the firelight. Fear began to grip me. What hope did I have? My mind turned to the stories of Lúthien, my great, great grandmother. She wouldn't have been scared of wolves. I wish I had some of her courage. Actually I wish I had her hound, Huan to scare these wolves off. That would probably be more useful.

I clasped my knees with my arms and rocked gently to and fro in the firelight. I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't be able to see the yellow eyes and glinting of white fangs.

I started to sing the story of Lúthien. Quietly at first, a whisper under my breath. Then I sang louder to block out the sounds of snarling in the shadows. I couldn't hear anything except my voice, which is quite powerful. Although at one point I thought I heard a slight whimper, but I may have imagined it.

After a while I stopped singing and opened my eyes. The wolves had gone. The night was silent. I couldn't understand it. The horse was still there, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. But why hadn't the wolves attacked me. Was it my singing? Do I take that for an insult or a compliment?

I don't understand. What happened?

#####################################################################

Good news today. I saw the company far away in the distance coming down the mountain, They had obviously decided to abandon Caradhras. I wonder why. The weather is lovely at the moment, unusual for this time of year. It would probably be lovely up there, pure white snow glinting in the sunshine, beautiful blue sky stretching up behind the mountains. What more could you want? I bet it was one of the hobbits who decided to turn back. They don't look like they've got a lot of stamina. I expect their feet got cold or something. Well, nothing important anyway.

I'm in a bit of a dilemma now. My ears are still ringing with Daddy's dire threats of what would happen to me if I dared to interfere with the fellowship. He stood in front of me in the great hall at home casually describing the punishments I would face if the fellowship so much as saw me. He said that my presence could affect the course of history and blar, blar, blar....something about plot continuum. Then he paused and looked at my blank face, realised I hadn't understood a word and said

"Stay away from them Sardwen. You muck up everything you touch, and they need all the help they can get."

Huh. So much for fatherly love and installing confidence. Anyway, the basic result means that if they tell Daddy that they've seen me anywhere other than Lothlórien, where I'm supposed to be, then my life won't be worth living.

Obviously my eyesight is better than theirs. Except Legolas. If I can see him, then he can probably see me. I'm alright at the moment. I saw them silhouetted against the dazzling white snow. I could even pick out Boromir, even though he's so far away.... I would probably blend more into the background of drab greens and grey/browns at the moment. But what do I do now? that's the direction I want to head in, but I dare not get too close, even though I'd love to get a closer look at Boromir. I'm in a mess to tell the truth.

#####################################################################

I ignored my better judgement and followed them. If Daddy finds out, I'm dead.

I don't think they've seen me yet. They are too busy fighting their way over the dark, slimy rocks near the entrance to Moria. I can't believe they want to go that way, when they could take the lovely sunny route over Caradhras. Hobbits must be so fussy.

I've left that horrible horse behind. It can go home if it wants, I no longer care. I couldn't be bothered to fight with it any longer, it would only draw attention to myself, and I'm anxious to avoid that at all costs. So now I'm following on foot.

I've decided that I hate being a girl. Stupid dresses with so much material. Fine for looking beautiful, slowly sweeping along polished marble corridors. Absolutely useless for tramping over rocks and gorse bushes. I've probably left a trail of torn strips of material clinging to each thorn bush. I can't even see where I'm putting my feet, unless I bunch all the skirts up in my arms, and then I can't keep my balance properly. What would I give for a pair of men's breeches right now. I'm sure Daddy would be shocked at the mere thought of his daughter behaving in an unladylike fashion. Well, he's not here, so he won't know.....I hope.

#####################################################################

Mithrandir saw me today. He knows I'm following now, but I don't think he's told anyone else. I just caught his eye as I was peering out from behind a pillar of rock. He looked a little surprised, then smiled at me. I don't think he'll tell Daddy. Anyway, all I wanted was another look at Boromir before I reach Lothlórien. Before having to stay with the most boring Grandmother in the whole of Middle Earth.

I'm not going to actually interfere with the fellowship at all. Honestly.

Well, we're not going anywhere at the moment. They're all hanging around outside the entrance to Moria. I do believe Mithrandir may have forgotten the password. But it's so obvious. "Mellon" - Friend. It's even written on the door! How easy can it be?

But no. I can't interfere. Like Daddy said, I'd probably only muck everything up as usual.

So I'm stuck here, behind a large outcrop of black slimy rock. This place gives me the creeps. Something about the stench of dark, stagnant water and dead trees makes it really eerie. And the ripples. Ripples from a stone someone chucked into the water. They just spread across the lake, alerting anything within of our presence. Oh hurry up Mithrandir, I can't bear sitting writing this any more. Surely there must be something I can do....

Hang on....

Well, I've done it. Broken all the rules, sort of. I crept up behind the rocks until I was crouching behind Frodo. I told him the password in a whisper. He turned around suddenly and I crouched desperately behind the rock, my heart beating wildly. If he saw me, all was lost. He looked puzzled when there was no one there, then he turned back to Mithrandir and asked him the elvish word for friend as if the idea had just occurred to him. Oh well, I know I can't have the best of both worlds, but it would be nice to have a little credit on the few occasions when I do get something right.

I'd better pack up now. The door is opening and they're about to go in. I'll write more when I get the chance.

#####################################################################

What do I do now?

They've gone, deep into the mines of Moria. And I'm stuck outside.

How did it happen? Everything was going so well. The doors opened and they walked inside. I was about to sneak in behind them when there was a bit of commotion over a few dead bodies. I couldn't hear properly what was going on, I was more concerned with the ripples in the pool. They were coming back now. Ripples shouldn't do that...unless there was something moving quickly below the surface of the water.

Before I could say or do anything, a long tentacle emerged from the water and grabbed Frodo around the leg, dragging him back towards the pool. Why Frodo? Poor hobbit, first he gets stabbed with a Morgal blade, then he gets attacked by every other creature around. None of the others seem to suffer such bad luck.

The next few minutes were total confusion. Tentacles thrashing in the water. Screams and shouts, arrows, swords, people splashing about in the water. Aragorn hacked off a chunk of tentacle that flew through the air and landed next to me. It thrashed about limply on the ground for a second or two, as if it had a life of its own. Then it stopped moving. A slimy reminder of the creature out there. Blood oozing slowly out onto the ground. I felt quite sick looking at it to tell the truth.

They got Frodo back eventually, and made a mad dash for the entrance to Moria. The groping tentacles followed them, writhing across the slimy black stone and fingering the clefts in the rock face. Before I could get in, the creature pulled at the rock doors and caused the entire cliff to crumble, blocking the entrance.

I cradled my head as chunks of rock fell around me. The thing was frantically tearing at the hole. After a while it gave up and tried to find another entrance into the caves.

Those horrible tentacles snaked their way along the rocky ledge to where I was crouching. I watched in disgusted horror as one slithered towards me. I backed up against the wall, desperately trying not to get discovered. It moved past me and came across you dear Diary. It felt your leather bound spine, I was disgusted that something so slimy should touch your beautiful red cover. It grabbed you firmly in its grip and snaked its way back to the water. I was horrified. The idea that the creature could take you away from me. All my precious thoughts and feelings that I've spent hours writing down. I was so angry. There was no way I was going to let it get away with it.

I raced down to the edge of the pool. There were still tentacles thrashing around me. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the tentacle that was holding you, high up above the surface of the water.

"Give it back!" I screamed. "Give me back my diary or I'll...I'll..." I paused, trying to think of something awful enough to scare that thing. Desperation seized me. What could I do? I had no secret weapon, I could never fight that thing. Was I going to lose my diary forever?

And then from nowhere, memories of the wolves flashed through my head.

"Give it back or I'll sing!" I threatened. I wasn't scared any more. The wind whipped up strands of my long dark hair. My eyes flashed in anger. Perhaps I did look a little intimidating. I remember the last time I got this angry at home. One of the elves who witnessed had to go for counselling. He would scuttle away in fear whenever he saw me for ages afterwards.

Anyway, this threat didn't seem to affect the creature. It just alerted it of my presence. A slimy tentacle stretched out towards me. I slapped it away viciously.

Then I started to sing.

I have to admit, it even sounded bad to my ears. I guess singing is one elvish talent I have not inherited. I just stood there, head thrown back, the noise coming out as loudly as I could. As I reached the high notes, the rocks started to vibrate slightly. I was glad there was no glass around.

The creature was going crazy. Thrashing and splashing about in the water. A sort of moaning, wailing sound coming from it. I almost pitied its pain. Then suddenly, without warning the diary was thrust in my direction and the tentacles sank beneath the surface of the pool. I reached out and caught it, hugging it tightly against my chest as I stopped singing. The last of the tentacles disappeared and the ripples gradually became calm again. The hollow was as eerie as when we had arrived, but now there was a huge pile of rubble where the door used to be.

So I'm safe. I got away from the entrance as fast as I could. Now I'm spending the night next to an outcrop of rock, under the shelter of a small crooked tree. I have you with me dear Diary. I nearly thought I was going to lose you like I lost my horse and almost all my other possessions. My major concern is...What on earth do I do now?