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It was a week later that Samwise Gamgee found himself, yet again, unable to sleep under the dense foliage of the trees and bushes. The stars were dark, and likewise, the moon was hidden away. There was no sound but the rustle of wind in the trees, and the soft snore of his companions.
Carefully he rolled over, making only a slight sound when he sighed. Tonight's sleeping arrangements were almost as bad as they had been on that night before. No, he wouldn't get a chest wound for rolling over, but none the less it was horrible.
He was between Merry and Pippin. Up until now he had remained lucky, the two Hobbits were so close to each other that they tended to do everything together, up to and including food - if either was to have any leftovers that is. But it seemed that even the best of friends were to fight when they had gotten shoved together for longer then they had ever before. Although Sam hadn't quite caught the gist of the fight, it was something to do with what green tasted like.
He shook his head in a humourless laugh. 'Those two,' he mumbled to his own mind, 'have the oddest conversations of any Hobbit I could think of.'
Although the argument had been funny at first, it had then started to drag out to the point where neither would speak to the other. Though this could have been thought a blessing, being away from said conversations, it seemed that when the two decided to fight they did it to epic proportions. Sam had in fact had to deal with two people saying to him, "Tell Merry," and "Tell Pippins".
It had gotten quite tiring, incredibly quickly.
Now being sandwiched between the two was not quite Sam's idea of a picnic, even under the best conditions. Sadly, it seemed that Pippin tended to be a blanket stealer, and likewise Merry had a habit of clutching pillows. Together, it worked perfectly. Apart it ruined a good nights sleep.
Slowly standing he looked around, half hoping to see Legolas awake once again. He wanted… well, he wasn't quite sure what he wanted, but another conversation would be nice. During the day Legolas would usually be off in the front of the group, leaving Boromir to watch the lagging Hobbits. He was always off looking into the distance with his eyes, or listening for strange sounds in the trees. When he did talk, it was usually to Strider, and then almost always in Elvish.
To be short, it was hard to have a conversation with the Elf for more then two minutes.
Sighing lightly once again he hopped over members of the fellowship, making his way to the river bed they had been following for some time now. The rushing of the water helped to calm his nerves, and he was about ready to head back to face the grabbing hands of the two Hobbits when he looked up…
The clouds had parted slightly, enough to let through a single star…
It shone brightly, and Sam stared at it hard, as though retrieving a lost memory. And that is, in fact, exactly what he did. He thought to a point, really not all that long ago, before they had met up with the rest of the fellowship. When he had stood by Mister Frodo with only Strider, Pippin, and Merry.
When it was he that had known the poem of Gil-galad.
It had been a nice feeling at the time, the feeling of contribution. He was, after all, the only Hobbit of the four that didn't read and write, and so to know something that the others didn't - and not about gardening or cooking of course - was something he could be quite proud of.
"Gil-galad," he murmured quietly to himself, still staring up at the sky and trying to remember the exact wording so late in the night, "and where he dwelleth, none can say; for into darkness fell his star…"
And as the clouds covered the star again, he muttered the last phrase, "In Mordor where the shadows are."
Now, feeling quite depressed at the disappearance of the only star in the sky, and of course the mention of their destination, Sam stood. He was not expecting a voice to appear behind him though, and jumped slightly at the sound of it.
"What poem to you say Sam?" the Elf whispered quietly, smiling but confused.
"Oh, Legolas sir… I didn't hear you approach."
The elf laughed, his eyes sparkling, "And with that thought in your mind, perhaps you'll feel safe enough to stay in your bed in 'morrow's night?"
"Perhaps," Sam responded, quietly backing into the trees with Legolas, as to not wake the others, "But perhaps I shall rest better if Pippin and Merry have decided not to fight any longer. They can go back to their prior sleeping arrangements, and we shall all be the happier."
"Indeed," Legolas said, "I shall be the better also, if that's the case. It seems to me that even I can have trouble sleeping, though I never have before."
"You sir? Trouble sleeping? If I could enquire why…" Sam trailed off, not wanting to test the boundaries that the Elf may have set up. After all, this was an Elven prince, and he was naught but a gardener.
"You may enquire if you wish," he responded, "Though the answer is so simple that it makes no good story. To be quite blunt, I've managed to land a place by Gimli, and his beard is so tangled the messy that I spend a good part of the night simply staring at him, wondering how he manages at all."
Sam smiled at the image of the distraught Elf, "Perhaps we could manage to convince him to shower the dirt our one day Mister Legolas," he laughed, "But I doubt that day shall come soon. We would have to gain a trust with him unseen of on Middle Earth!"
"If there was any reason good enough Sam, for an Elf to be friends with a Dwarf, this would be it. But then, if I were to convince him to wash it out - or better yet shave it off, I've no doubt he would in turn try to convince me to do something disturbingly… dwarvish."
"Dwarves aren't so bad," Sam countered, "They have ale that could almost rival Hobbits', and tell a tale worthy of any hall."
"Aye," he agreed, "But what Elven hall could stand the sight of drunken Dwarves, or worse, the smell?"
Sam laughed lightly and nodded before saying, "Perhaps some people are simply too different to be good friends Mister Legolas… but to be quite honest, I hadn't figured you to be the type."
"The type?"
"Well, to give up and all…"
"I am Legolas Greenleaf, and never have I 'given up' in my life."
"But you do simply decide that a Dwarf is not worth knowing simply for his rice. Simply because it is the common thought. Perhaps Mister Legolas," he said wisely, but with a smile, "the common thought is wrong. I simply mean to say that you shouldn't let a messy beard and good ale turn you away from a true friendship."
Legolas looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, one eyebrow raised and muttered, "Perhaps you are wrong. …But, perhaps you are right. You have truly given me a thought worthy of taking a few nights rest."
Sam smiled at him, his eyes unblinking as he turned again to the sky. "The star is still gone," he muttered in disappointment, "I hoped it would come back, but it seems not likely."
"The star?" Legolas asked, "You realize that there are many thick clouds tonight young Hobbit. Perhaps you should be in bed."
"I've no doubt I should," Sam replied, "But I'm not seeing things. For a moment before you arrived I saw a star, if only for a moment."
"It is a good sign."
"It is."
"Tell me," Legolas said, "What poem were you saying earlier? I don't think I've heard of it."
Sam looked at Legolas in surprise for a moment before saying, "It was one that old Bilbo taught be, quite some time ago. When I was young, I should think. I thought he had written it himself, but Strider says that it's an Elven one. Are you sure you've not heard it?"
"I'm quite sure. We have many poems and songs after all Sam, and never hearing one or two is perfectly common. What was it about?"
"A king named Gil-galad," Sam said sadly, still looking upwards to the sky, "I could tell you what I know of it, if that should help."
"It would."
"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
The last whose realm was fair and free
Between the mountains and the sea.
His sword was long, his lance was keen,
His shining helm afar was seen;
The countless star's of heaven's field
Were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away,
And where he dwelleth none can say,
For into darkness fell his star
Where Mordor and the shadows are."
Legolas looked at him strongly for a moment, considering the words and mulling them over in his mind. Lightly, as though an Elf could do anything in any other way, he put his hand of Sam's shoulder. "It is good to know such a poem," he said, "for one of such things is quite old. Older then me, and perhaps of my fathers father."
"That's quite old," Sam said, before realizing that saying such could be insulting. Before he managed to apologise though, Legolas laughed.
"Perhaps to you, Mister Samwise Gamgee, it is as old as time itself. Perhaps longer, I should not know. But yes… even for we Elves, such things happened an age ago and more."
"You know about him?"
"Well, yes, but not so much. It seems that weather you're Human or Elf, children have a habit of not wanting to know their lessons to such an extent. I had to learn some of the past for my own lessons, and have the part about Gil-galad memorized, but I had never heard the poem."
"What is it then, that you know?"
"The way I would tell it," Legolas laughed, "Would be more like an encyclopaedia then any story. Surely it is not what you had hoped to hear this late at night."
"Oh no," Sam interrupted, "I love to hear about the Elves sir, they're certainly fascinating."
Legolas simply laughed, "I suppose we are, to one that it not of us. Likewise, Hobbits seem quite fascinating to me."
"Fascinating?" Sam said in surprise, "Hobbits? No, we're simple folk to be truthful. Ale and stories, and weed and food. It's what we live for Mister Legolas, and not much else." Legolas merely tilted his head at this, sending a questioning glance at Sam. "And yet," he murmured quietly, "Here you are, ready to risk your life for the fate of those that you do not know. Following your master, not for payment, but because you love him as a friend. It seems to me Samwise Gamgee, that you live for far more then foods and drinks."
"Like what?"
"Like friendship," he said, still quietly, "Like for the right to grow the plants you will, and watch life spring from under your own feet, by your own hand. You are here because you want to save people. You fight for freedom, and so must like to live for it, I should think."
"Well," Sam responded, "I suppose."
"It seems to me," Legolas continued, "That you live simply for the joy of living. That you love such a thing enough you would risk your life for it. That you live to love others. If you did not, surely you would not have followed your master here?
"It seems to me," he added on, completing his thought, "That you are the most interesting creature that I have ever met. It seems to me that a Hobbit will fight for only a few things… but when he does he does it because he knows that it is what is right, and good. Not for personal gain. And that is something that very few people, from very few races can say."
"I would thank you for that remark, had I thought it true. But Hobbits fight indeed, though you may think otherwise. We fight amongst ourselves as any do. You ought to meet that Sackville-Baggins', you would know exactly what I meant."
"The Sackville-Baggins'?" Legolas questioned.
"Relatives of Mister Frodo, and hated by all. Even each other it seems sometimes. And Gandalf too, if you should believe it. He's actually been labelled a disturber of the peace in the Shire you know."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
"And there is no man or beast," Legolas laughed, "That more so deserves the title. I give only the highest of respect to the grey pilgrim, but that will not change the simple facts of life. He does, after all, take it upon himself to make the oddest of decisions."
"He does." Sam finished quietly, before turning to look at Legolas again. He started to turn back to where he had lay before, almost saying goodnight, before having a thought. "Mister Legolas?"
"Yes Sam?" the Elf answered.
"Perhaps… tomorrow, as we walk, you may tell me of Gil-galad then? It might break up the monotone of walking, if only so much… and I'm sure such a topic may have the interest of the others as well."
Legolas smiled softly, before turning to a tree and launching himself at a branch to sit on, "I would be more then happy to Samwise, but you must promise me first that you might sleep the rest of the night."
"You know," Sam said, "I think I shall by now…"
Yawning deeply he lay back where he was, pulling his blanket and pillow away from the others, knowing they wouldn't awake. It was quite late after all, and he was quite tired.
To Be Continued