Samwise Gamgee is my name, and I'm one of those folk who never really like going off into all sorts of wild adventures. Strange thing is, I find myself in an adventure right now. Some days ago there was a council at Rivendell, and there was a decision that this Ring - it turned out that Bilbo had gotten it from a creature named Gollum, long ago - should be destroyed at Mordor.
Now, don't get me wrong. I like cooking and gardening; peaceful things. But I promised Gandalf that I would look after Mister Frodo, and that's what I'm going to do. I dunno how Mr. Frodo's gardener (me) would do much help - those really big folk like Mr. Strider or Mr. Boromir or Mr. Legolas or Mr. Gimli would do more - but Mr. Frodo is dear to me, so it's off I go to Mordor.
There are a lot of things I don't understand in this world. I don't understand why there's a Ring and Sauron and why there's so much Evil. I don't understand why the Ring tempts so much people. I might not be as bright as other folk around here, but it was in Moria I understood the real danger of this "journey... quest... thing."
In the Shire Mr. Gandalf was one of those queer, but fun-loving folk. Some of the adults thought he was a nusiance, with his big-grey pointy hat and grey robes and his long silver beard. But us younger folk thought better of him, even though we only knew him as a party-celebrater (I suspected Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo always knew what he really was, though). He used to come down into the Shire with his wagon and firecrackers, and show us little magic. The young children would clap their hands and laugh, and the older people would look in awe, too.
But Mr. Gandalf was more than that, as we all discovered in the Fellowship. I think the other people - Mr. Strider, Mr. Legolas, Mr. Gimli, Mr. Boromir, and Mr. Frodo - all knew Gandalf was not just a firecracker-maker.
He's a mighty wizard. He was a mighty Wizard, I should say. His staff was all glowing with light in Moria, and his eyes had something terrible in them. When he was fighting the Barlog, he looked so powerful. Like some kind of hero out of Mr. Bilbo's old legends.
You see, we had to go East, and the only routes from Rivendell was to go on the mountain, around the mountain, or under the mountain. We tried going on the mountain - Cahadras, I think its name was — but Gandalf said that Saruman was blocking the way. Saruman is another Wizard, in Isengard, north of a land called Rohan.
It was Mr. Boromir who suggested the way around the mountain — the Gap of Rohan — and Mr. Gimli who suggested the way under the mountain — the Mines of Moria. At first it seemed that Mines of Moria would do jolly and good, but then I heard that there might be Orcs down there.
I wasn't exactly convinced, either, when Mr. Strider — excuse me, Mr. Aragorn — said in this hollow, scary voice that he didn't wish to go to Moria. It seems that Mr. Gandalf and Mr. Aragorn went there once, both survived, but neither liked it.
So we stood on this cold, blizzaring mountain, arguing about where to go. Merry, Pippin, and I were too drowsy to interfere; it was the cold, and we stood there listening.
Mr. Gandalf said that Mr. Frodo could decide where to go. I think Mr. Frodo was a little worried, and a little scared. Now, in the Shire I've never seen him scared, but then, this was a new thing for all of us: going through quests to become heroes or whatnot you become when you destroy a Ring. (I think it was new for all of us. I think.)
Mr. Frodo chose the way of the Mines.
The Mines were dark and a little spooky, if you know what I mean. I once overheard a conversation between Mr. Gandalf and Mr. Frodo about Gollum, that creature who Bilbo got the Ring from, and how he still might be haunting us. It was then I got scared, shut my eyes, and went to sleep, so I don't remember any more of the conversation.
The Mines, Mr. Gimli says, was once really magnificent. You won't believe what it was, he said. A home of light and beauty, and crafting of the Dwarves. I'm sure it had been all wonderful, but I had just wanted to get out of there.
For the first three days we didn't meet anything horrible. On the fourth day...
I think Pippin needs some more common sense in his head. I might not be as smart, but I got good common sense, and I don't get into trouble! Pippin dropped a head thingie and attracted the Orcs. It was a jolly ol', kind of scary fight. I didn't use my sword, though. I used my jolly, good ol' frying pan. (Maybe I should write a book later, called "101 Ways to Use a Frying Pan.")
Mr. Frodo almost got killed, too. There was a big cave troll, and he tried to pierce Mr. Frodo's chest with a spear. Mr. Aragorn tried to save him, but he got knocked out when he was thrown. After Mr. Legolas killed them with his bow and arrows, it turned out that Mr. Frodo wasn't dead at all. He had been given a coat of mithril - along with Sting, his sword - from Mr. Bilbo. So that was what they were doing, back then! Good old Mr. Bilbo! He must know a lot to handle these kind of situations. Even the Fellowship were awed by the mithril coat. I do think it's beautiful, but I was just happy that Mr. Frodo was safe.
Then... It's too horrible to remember! I don't think my Gaffer back at home or anybody else would believe it, although it's awfully sad.
Mr. Gandalf died...
He was mighty and powerful when he had been fighting. The Barlog, a winged, fiery giant, seemed so ... unpowerful next to him. Mr. Gandalf's silvery hair was around him, and he was raising his staff and sword to protect us. Us.
He broke the bridge so the Barlog would fall, but the Barlog grabbed his ankle with the fiery whip.
We had gotten out of the Mines. I can't help remebering what Mr. Aragorn told us, back on Cahadras: the warning to Gandalf to beware in the Mines of Moria.
Mr. Gandalf deserves a full-established lament. I think the Elves would make one. I would try, too, although I can never be as good as them or Mr. Bilbo.
Mr. Gandalf said that we hobbits would be the ones to destroy the Ring. But we're nowhere close to Mordor yet, and he's already gone.
Maybe we Hobbits are made of sterner stuff than we know...
"How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?
"But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something.
"There's some good in the world, Mr. Frodo... And it's worth fighting for."