Disclaimer: Today we have a very special guest with us. Please welcome Mr. Peregrin "Pippin" Took!
Pippin: (steps up to a microphone with his hands tucked behind his back) Good afternoon ladies an' gen'lmen. I'm here ter tell all you reviewers that none of this stuff belongs ter Blue Kat. It all belongs to Pe'er Jackson and Tolkien. So…don' sue 'er. (looks at audience shyly and beams cutely before scuttling off stage).
Who shall do the disclaimer next? If you have any requests, let me know in your review. Majority wins.
Chapter Twenty-One
My feelings on running and any large amounts of speed walking are as follows: "Why run if you can just drive there?"
My gym teacher never appreciated this opinion; most particularly when I pointed out the ineffectiveness of running back and forth across a playing field when we could just as easily play on a golf cart or something. Or at least pick one side of the field and stay there, rather than running back and forth. How was this continuous amount of sprinting really going to help us when we took our first steps into the real world?
This argument ironically won me ten additional laps around the track and/or a detention, depending on how much I protested.
I knew from the very beginning that Aragorn would not appreciate nor heed my arguments and complaints, and I realized that it would be selfish of me to complain when Merry and Pippin were probably experiencing torture more painful and exhausting than continuous amounts of running. I also understood that my companions were all suffering as much as I was and that it was equally uncomfortable for them.
But someone had to be the selfish bitch in this group and the job was appointed to me when my feet started to hurt and my stomach growled with hunger.
"No," Aragorn replied when I inquired if we could stop for just a moment. I frowned in annoyance. "Have a bite of lembas if you're tired," he offered. I had no choice but to listen to the Ranger and occasionally nibbled on a sweet cake as we went along.
The day slowly gave away to dusk and the sun began to slowly melt into the horizon. It was quite a spectacular sunset, beautiful hues of pink, orange, and red melting together like nacho cheese (I was rather hungry at this point and had a strange craving for any kind of processed cheese), the dark blue of the sky deepening as the last bit of light began to disappear. A cold mist began to rise as the sun set, hiding the landscape in a murky curtain.
The silvery moon began to rise in the sky, its soft gentle light a beacon of hope in the darkness as we stumbled along. Multitudes of stars began to appear as well, twinkling brightly in the night sky.
The light of the moon and stars was enough to guide us for many hours. Fatigue had more or less evaded me, as my elven qualities essentially subdued my need for sleep. But this afternoon's trials had begun to take their toll on me as the night tediously wore on. I took several bites of lembas, quietly wondering how Aragorn and Gimli were able to maintain their fast pace when they clearly needed rest. I concluded that they had bought some secret dwarven coffee (99.9% caffeine) off the black market. Or they just didn't complain as much as me.
We finally rested as the pale light of dawn began to creep into the dark sky. I ate half of a loaf of bread with some sharp cheddar cheese and attempted to make friendly conversation with Gimli before I realized he had fallen asleep with his eyes open. I began to laugh at this, as I was nearly giddy with weariness, and it made sense to me at the time. Aragorn looked at me, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Oh, I don't even know," I replied, taking a mouthful of water from my canteen. "I'm tired and the world fails to make any sense whatsoever." I paused for a moment. "Do we have any coffee?" I asked, hoping for (and needing) a bit of a caffeine rush. Aragorn shook his head.
"We don't have enough time to indulge in such things," he replied. I made a face, provoking a slight laugh out of Aragorn.
"Here," said Legolas, withdrawing a flask from his cloak. I took it from his hand, eying it suspiciously. "Miruvor," he explained.
"I duin na nev i erin," I replied, not having the slightest idea as to what he was talking about. I duin na nev i erin was the first Sindarin sentence I had fully mastered—it means "the forest is near the river" and often served as my useful reply when Legolas asked one of his inconceivable questions that I could not understand. Aragorn grinned slightly and Legolas allowed a smile to play at the corners of his lips.
"Miruvor," he repeated. "The cordial of Imladris. It means nectar. Drink only a little—it is very precious." I uncorked the flask, and brought it to my lips, hesitantly sipping at the liquid. It was very sweet, tasting fresh and clean in my mouth, rolling down my throat smoothly in a steady stream. I began to feel a warm glow slowly spreading throughout my body, followed by a rush of energy that completely masked my former lethargy. I felt like I had awoken from a long sleep that left my body completely refreshed.
And the whole idea that Legolas may have previously drank from the aforementioned flask was rather appealing…
*
After a while, both Aragorn and Legolas decided that we had rested long enough. We gathered our belongings, woke Gimli (well, Aragorn did that. I watched from about ten feet away), and prepared to set out again.
We followed the orc trail for a while, Aragorn in the lead, pointing out signs of the orcs' passage. It went very well for about a half an hour—the predawn light was enough for us to see where we were going, the trail was clear (orcs are incredibly lacking when it comes to subtlety), and our rest earlier had done wonders for our energy.
But then the trail simply vanished.
Aragorn looked muddled as he scanned the ground for signs of the trail that had been so obviously laid out before us earlier.
"Which way would they turn, do you think?" asked Legolas after a moment or two. "Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn if that is their aim, as you guess? Or Southward to strike the Entwash?"
"Or maybe they went back to hell," I offered, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind my ear.
"They will not make for the river, whatever mark they aim at," Aragorn replied. "And unless there is much amiss in Rohan and the power of Saruman is greatly increased, they will take the shortest way that they can find over the fields of the Rohirrim. And hell seems rather unlikely," he added. I laughed, my spirits lifted slightly. "Let us search northwards!"
We trekked on for a while or so, heading for some unknown destination. Things would have been so much easier if we had a helicopter—or even a golf cart. But I suppose the Fates of Middle-earth enjoyed messing around with my life, so we jogged and power walked for quite a bit.
I was nibbling at a bit of cheese when Legolas suddenly called out, startling me and consequently causing me to trip and fall. Muttering curses to myself, I stood up, gently rubbing my wrist, which had absorbed most of the impact.
"We have already overtaken some of those that we are hunting!" he exclaimed. He motioned to several huddled forms at the foot of a slope. Upon looking closer, I realized that they were the lifeless bodies of orcs, horribly maimed, their dark blood staining the ground, giving a slight stench to the air.
"Here is another riddle!" exclaimed Gimli. "But it needs the light of day, and for that we cannot wait."
"Yet however you read it, it seems not unhopeful," added Legolas. I raised my eyebrows. Oh sure. "Enemies of the orcs are likely to be our friends. Do any folk dwell in these hills?"
"No," replied Aragorn. "The Rohirrim seldom come here, and it is far from Minas Tirith. It might be that some company of Men were hunting here for reasons we do not know. Yet I think not."
"What do you think?" asked Gimli, leaning heavily on his axe.
"I think that the enemy brought his own enemy with him. These are Northern orcs from far away. Among the slain are none of the Great Orcs with strange badges. There was a quarrel, I guess: it is no uncommon thing with these foul folk. Maybe there was some dispute about the road."
"Or the captives," added Gimli.
"Or politics," I offered. Aragorn looked at me oddly. "Hey, politics are no laughing matter. My aunt's best friend got into a pretty heated debate at the Jewel with a cashier. The manager had to break them apart with the produce hose." Aragorn seemed to ponder this for a moment before shrugging it off as one of my more bizarre ideas.
I love causing confusion.
*
A little while later we found the tracks again, just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. The first part of the day was annoyingly boring, monotony stretching as long and as endless as the plains we constantly had to cross.
Several hours later, Aragorn gave a shout and turned aside from the trail.
"Stay! Do not follow me yet!" he instructed. He followed a relatively small series of indentations in the grass, which bore a vague resemblance to child-sized footprints. The small prints were quickly overtaken by a larger set, ones that left the grass dark and bruised—those of the orcs. Aragorn knelt and scooped up a small shiny object that had been lost in the blades of grass and returned to us, his discovery cupped gently in his hand. "Yes, they are quite plain: a hobbit's footprints, Pippin's, I think. He is smaller than the other. And look at this!" He held the object up in the air so that it slightly reflected the light of the sun. It was the leaf-like brooch that adorned the cloaks we had received in Lothlorien.
"The brooch of an elven cloak!" exclaimed Legolas and Gimli simultaneously.
"Congratulations. You win a new car!" I added. Aragorn gave me a look. "I'm sorry," I shrugged. "I had to say it. And I'm so good at ruining a moment..." I smiled innocently, batting my eyelashes. Aragorn sighed, muttering something in some form of elvish. Legolas smirked slightly as the words fell upon his ears. "Some day I will be fluent and then you'll be sorry…" Aragorn just shook his head.
"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall," he said, holding up the brooch between his thumb and index finger. This did not drop by chance: it was cast away as a token to any that might follow. I think Pippin ran away from the trail for that purpose."
"Then at least he was alive," added Gimli. "And he had the use of his legs and his wits too. This is heartening. We do not pursue in vain."
"Let us hope he did not pay too dearly for his boldness," said Legolas, staring thoughtfully into the distance. "Come! Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart."
I wanted to laugh at the description Legolas used, as was rather funny in its own twisted way, but I managed to bite my tongue and save my laughter for another occasion.