In truth, Merry was a bit scared. In fact, he was very slightly terrified, if that made any sense. He did like going out at night, and he did like walking, but a combination of the two made him a little bit – apprehensive. When he usually went out he usually was just outside, a few steps from the door. Now, not angry at Pippin anymore, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to go.

He paused, wondering if he should just not go – but here was Pippin. He came running down the lane, breathless. "Still going?"

"Of course."

"Alright then. When will you come back?"

"A hour or so. Why?"

"I'll wait for you."

"Fine." Now he did have to go. He set off, outwardly calm, but inwardly frightened, toward the open meadows.

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Gimli was even more bored than before, if such a thing was possible. He twisted his braided beard idly. He had gone in and had had supper, but not mid afternoon snack, before-supper snack, after-supper snack, and countless others. Of course those were not the hobbits' main meals, thankfully; they only had six or seven of those. Breakfast, second breakfast, mid-morning snack, dinner, afternoon tea, and supper. He still wasn't sure whether midnight snack counted.

It was dark, and if he was a human it might have been cold, but he decided that he was going to play up his endurance and pretend it wasn't. He looked at the bright green door. The sounds of talk were still coming from behind it.

Knowing that his father wouldn't be too worried if he wasn't there, Gimli got up and stretched. Then he started off, planning to stay out all night, walk, and then go to a few taverns and get nicely drunk.

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The night was cool and fresh, and the stars twinkled in the velvet sky above. Legolas drank in the sweet scent of tranquil night over the grass and under Isil. He trod lightly across the green grass.

Then he heard a voice, sweeter than an elf's even, singing. He cocked his head and hurried toward the source of the song.

It was farther than he had thought it would be. He ran for a long time and could still not catch up with the voice. It seemed to fill the air yet pierce through it like sunlight. He stared out at the horizon, not looking where his feet led him.

And suddenly, the singing stopped, and the whistling of air took over. In horror he realized he had stumbled over a cliff…

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Strider the Ranger followed the hobbit as silently as he could, trying to remember what his name was. He supposed a Ranger should know, but he had been barely listening to Mithrandir when the wizard had asked him to do it, hearing only the words hobbit, shire, adventure, weapon, and Sauron. His mind had been on other things – namely a pretty elven lady. He berated himself for that. The twins were right – he spent far too much time mooning over her. Or maybe they were just being protective.

Anyway, the problem at hand was, although not much of a problem, still what should be on his mind instead of – oh, now he was mooning over her again. Stop it, Aragorn Elessar Strider Estel – um, lets see, Thorongil? Wait a minute – what are my other names? Oh, the hobbit's getting to far away. Run run run. La de da de da. What's that?

He had just heard what could be counted as a scream. Uh oh. Great, now he had more than one problem on his hands. Okay, go to the source of the screaming or follow the hobbit? It didn't take much time to figure it out, as the hobbit was going to where the scream came from. All right, fine. We'll follow the hobbit until he veers away from it or stands there staring – all right; he's standing and staring. If I'm not mistaken, that's a cliff.

Aragorn the Heir of Isildur ran towards the edge of the cliff and looked down in horror. The swift rapids glistening in the moonlight illuminated the body that was falling. That was Legolas!

Not even stopping to question why Legolas would be there at all, he immediately cast about for a way to save his friend. Not finding any, he panicked. That was when he saw what the hobbit was staring at.

There, in the middle of the small river, on a wet and slippery rock, stood a lady quite like Arwen. In fact even more beautiful. He had no doubt she would be as fair of heart as well. He stared just like the hobbit, forgetting his friend completely in the haunting thread of the lady's song.

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Merry didn't even hear the scream. He was too busy staring at the pretty hobbit girl that was singing in the moonlight. He unconsciously took a step towards her. He had thought that he would never fall for a girl, unlike Sam, who was besotted but afraid of Rosie. Or it seemed like that. That was his last coherent thought before the light cover of bark and grass collapsed and he fell into the tunnel.

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Gimli had been walking for a long time, and he wondered if he maybe should turn around and find a tavern. Then he heard the tune.

Normally he didn't go out for such stuff. He left it to the elves, those stupid stuck up creatures who thought that they were such wonderful things that the earth can't go without. Mining songs, stuff like that, but not sentimental things. Sentimental things were usually boring. Some dwarves did like them, but Gimli was, as he thought, practical.

But this one drew him. This one tugged at his mind. Frowning, he walked toward the sound. He came upon a two cliffs on the sides of a river, an entranced human, a hole in the ground, and a lovely dwarven maiden.

Being a sensible dwarf, he wondered why the human was so entranced with a dwarven lady. Humans usually didn't like them. And there was that hole in the ground – he decided to check that out.

Walking to the rim, he peered over the side. There was quite a bit of darkness and quite a bit of yelling. He frowned, looked around for some wood, found none, and accidentally fell in the hole.

Agh! was his fist thought. Dang! was his second. Uh oh! was his third, especially when he heard a skittering in the darkness. He gave out a dwarven battle cry and attacked on pure impulse.

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It was after midnight. Pippin was pacing back and forth. He had told Sam and Frodo about it, and they were there, too, for no particular reason. "Is he back yet?" he said for the tenth time in the last five minutes.

"No, Pip. Stop pacing," said Frodo wearily.

"He said he'd be back in an hour."

"Maybe he just wants to stay out later."

"I didn't mean it when I was goading him! Now he could have had anything happen to him! Maybe – "

"Pip, nothing's going to happen. What could happen?"

"Lots of things! Like maybe he was attacked by wild – wild – trees!"

"Pippin, you have too big of an imagination," said Sam. "I've been a gardener all my life and I've never heard of wild trees."

"Orcs then! Or something like that!"

"Orcs? Why would they be here?" asked Frodo.

"I don't know!"

"Pippin, he's just a little bit late."

"A little bit! He left an hour after sundown! It's after midnight! It's been more than four hours, Frodo!"

"All right then. If you're really that worried, we'll go and look for him."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Pippin, whoa there. He's probably in no trouble at all."

"Thank you anyway."

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The roar of a dwarven battle cry distracted Thorongil the knight of Gondor from the beautiful lady. He frowned at the distraction. Looking around, he discovered the source of it, a gaping hole in the ground. He went over to the rim and looked in. Little points of light were darting everywhere, around what looked like a dwarf. The dwarf seemed to be swinging his battleaxe. There was another shape there, too, a bit smaller than the dwarf.

Lots of little shadows came, then, and started attacking the dwarf. Elessar spared one more glance at the lady before jumping in to help the dwarf.

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