Sam heard something whiz past his head. Then, a second later, he heard a sharp thud behind him. He turned around. He saw that a stick was implanted firmly in a tree behind him. He turned around and looked at Morantwen. She was completely flawless in being incognito until, that is, she looked up at Sam.
"Uh, Is there a problem, Sam?"
"Problem! I could've gotten my head skewered! Is that what you were doing? Drawing my death plan, eh?"
"Sam! Sam. I am sorry! It was just a joke. I was testing your temper and...seeing how scared you get."
Sam frowned and went back to his cooking. Morantwen felt guilty and walked over to him.
"Sam, I am sorry. Really. It was just a joke. The silence is suffocating, you know? I was being immature. Forgive me?" Sam was about to reply when Frodo mumbled something.
"That was funny, though."
"Go back to your reading, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. He looked at Morantwen and smiled. He nodded.
Suddenly, Frodo closed his book and sat bolt upright. Sam and Morantwen looked at him as he jumped out of the tree. Automatically, Sam followed him, obviously not having a clue why. Morantwen, too, followed along. Frodo stopped behind a log and stared beyond. From a closing distance, Sam and Morantwen could see a blue tint in the air.
"Sam, Morantwen," Frodo whispered. He turned around, "Wood-elves." Morantwen rushed forward. Sam came behind her. The elves were singing softly as they walked through the wood. Morantwen looked solemnly at them.
"They are going to harbor beyond the White Tower. To the Grey Havens."
"They're leaving Middle-Earth," whispered Frodo, quiet with amazement.
"Never to return," said Sam, "I don't know why...it makes me sad." They watched for a little while and then they walked silently back. Sam suddenly gasped and ran forward. Morantwen looked up curiously. Then she realized that while she was thinking about the Wood-elves, she didn't realize something was burning. She reached the area and saw Sam pouring his full canteen entirely over the fire. He looked up and laughed slightly.
"Soup's ready."
Frodo and Morantwen went over and sat down. Sam took out three bowls he took from Bag End and filled them with the boiling, savory liquid.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. I...also made sausages." He took out a pan from the area where the fire once was. What was on the plate didn't look too bad. Except for the singed blotches on some of them. They ate for a while and drank water. Sam had some in a bowl from Frodo and Morantwen's canteens. Then, the sun waned and the moon brightened. Midnight began to near. Sam took the bowls and set them next to the soaked firewood. Morantwen stood up.
"Maybe we should sleep here for tonight," suggested Frodo. Morantwen and Sam agreed.
"You know," spoke Morantwen, "I do not feel all that tired. I think I will go and wash the bowls and such. Oh, and refill our canteens. It will not take that long." Frodo and Sam looked at one another and shrugged.
"All right," Sam whispered.
"Diola lle."
-"Thank you"-said Frodo. Morantwen raised her eyebrows.
"Lle quen i'lambe tel' Eldalie?"
-"You speak elvish?"-
He nodded with a smile.
"Aiya, quel, Ta naa seasamin, san'."
-"Oh, well, it is my pleasure, then."- She laughed. Sam looked horribly confused.
"Uh, I think elvish is pretty beautiful soundin' an' all. But do ya mind speakin' in a language that I can understand?"
Morantwen laughed, "I am very sorry, Sam. I just did not know that Frodo knew how to speak elvish. I got distracted. Sorry to bewilder you there." She picked up the dishes and canteens and walked down to the river. Meanwhile, Frodo and Sam found a spongy area of grass by a nearby tree. They lay down and tried to fall asleep. After a while, Frodo managed to get into a half-sleep when Sam abruptly knocked him out of it with a complaint.