Chapter Eight

Farewell to Lothlorien

The elves made a great fuss over Calendula's trip. They piled him with lembas, which Pegrun thought looked very nasty, and everyone patted him on the back or shook his hand.

Oort snorted at the sentimentality and surveyed his axe and knives lovingly.

'Elves are all this way,' he said. 'They're so unused to death they can't face danger.'

Trolo was not entranced by any of it and was more concerned with making sure the pages of his book were all in order. He had spent the previous evening recording in minute detail everything that had happened the previous day, including his meeting with Peg, their encounter with the creature Gollum, and everything that had passed between them and the elves. Peg had peered over his shoulder once or twice, and Trolo had reacted violently, chasing him away into a far corner and pointing out with vehemence that a writer could not be watched while he worked.

Finally Calendula was able to pull himself away from his long-haired friends and joined his three new companions in the outermost courtyard of Caras Galadhon. He looked sad and troubled.

'Prepare yourselves,' he said to them. 'We move out within the hour.'

'And about time, too,' snorted Oort. 'How long do you think we've been waiting here already?'

'Patience, friend dwarf,' said Calendula. 'But a moment longer. I must bid farewell to my lord and lady.'

'Why?' asked Peg.

'Silence that orc!' said Calendula. 'He talks too much.'

'For the first and probably last time in history,' said Oort, 'an elf agrees with a dwarf.'

Calendula gave him a look that was supposed to be significant. But nobody could take an elf with long blond hair seriously, even if he had a soul patch.

'By the way,' said Trolo. 'Why do you have a tuft of hair above your chin?'

Calendula stroked a finger over it and turned pink. Since he was wearing a blue robe, he got across a fairly good impression of the Easter bunny, what with his ears and the strange combination of colours.

'It's my beard,' he said.

'Oh,' said Trolo. 'Have you ever really seen one of those things?'

Oort was doubling over with laughter. 'His beard!' he managed to get out after a long time. 'The elf with a beard!'

Calendula wrinkled his brows and looked a little angry. 'What?' he asked, in annoyance. 'It is not in the hobbit's power to grow one, either, so the humour does not strike me so heavily as it does you.'

Oort laughed harder.

'Why do you want to grow a beard?' asked Trolo. 'I thought elves couldn't.'

'So it is said,' said Calendula. 'But I don't see why I can't try. Did you not hear? There are rumours that Elrond of Rivendell actually shaves.'

'Shaves!' Oort was still overcome with hilarity. 'An elf shaving!'

'Do not make me angry, dwarf,' said Calendula, who already was.

Oort kept laughing, and even Trolo was smiling. Peg wasn't, but that's because he thought the elf might do something to him if he did.

Oort stroked his own beard proudly. 'His beard. His beard, by Mahal!'

'You try my temper sorely,' said Calendula. 'It strikes me to leave you behind.'

Oort grinned. 'It is your own beard, not mine,' he said. 'And it's quite evident even your elven friends don't think much of it.'

'It is not the elven custom to grow hair upon the face,' said Calendula.

'So why do you it?' asked Trolo.

'I am slightly different,' said Calendula, tilting his chin.

Oort went off into more gales of laughter and crumpled up in a corner. Calendula sulked for a while, and then plucked Trolo's arm and drew him away out of the dwarf's hearing.

'Listen, young Master hobbit,' he said. Trolo frowned.

'What?' he asked.

'You overheard what kind of ring this is which the orc has?'

'Yes,' said Trolo.

'You must not tell the dwarf.'

'Why not?' asked Trolo. 'I think he has as much right to know as any of us.'

'But if he knew,' said Calendula, urgently, 'he would refuse to destroy it. And of course, as my good friend says, the ring must be destroyed.'

'Well, I think it's jolly nice of you to make him come along and then destroy his ancestral property,' said Trolo.

'We are giving him his freedom,' said Calendula. 'It would only harm him to possess the ring. Sauron would seek him out and deal with him as he dealt with Thrain II, the old dwarf king. Do you know what end he met?'

Trolo shook his head.

'He was tormented until his mind gave way,' said Calendula. 'And when the Dark Lord took the ring away, he died in the throes of insanity. This is what will happen to our dwarf companion if he should come in possession of the ring.'

'Oh,' said Trolo. 'I see.'

'A hobbit's mind may be slow,' said Calendula, 'but his heart is good.'

Trolo frowned again.

'One other thing,' said Calendula. 'Do not trust that orc. You will endanger us all.'

Trolo raised his eyebrows. 'Our hero was highly offended. The orc hasn't done anything to you!'

'He is an orc,' said Calendula, with emphasis.

'So what?' demanded Trolo. 'I don't see what's so terrible about that. I don't see that it's much worse than being an elf.'

'You are far too innocent to understand the evils of this world,' began Calendula.

'And where do you come off talking about me like that?' asked Trolo. 'Look here, our hero greatly dislikes being treated like a child. I won't have it. I am not innocent and I've seen more of this world than you have. So I refuse to let you talk to me as if I was born yesterday! You all do this. You and the Men. You're all quite annoying. Our hero was greatly vexed.'

And he turned away from Calendula and folded his arms.

'I have never,' said Calendula, talking now in a conciliatory manner, 'in my life – which is now almost fifteen hundred years – known an orc who was not wholly evil. They are the brood of Morgoth and are inherently wicked and foul.'

'I doubt you ever knew any orcs,' said Trolo, stiffly. 'I doubt you ever got closer than a bow-shot, or the hilt of your sword. You don't know orcs. You only kill them.'

'And you believe that you do know them?' asked Calendula.

'Pegrun is all right,' said Trolo.

'How long have you been in company?' asked Calendula.

'A day,' said Trolo.

'And, witness, you know nothing of him,' said Calendula. 'He likely joined with you intending to eat you when the rations ran out. I have known orcs to do this to unwitting victims. He might have killed you in your sleep.'

Trolo's eyes grew wide. Calendula laid a hand on his shoulder.

'You have been favoured by the stars,' he said, 'to have fallen in with us.'

'I wouldn't taste very good,' said Trolo, casually, shrugging him off. 'The fellow doesn't know a thing about cooking.'

And he walked pointedly across the room.

It was then that Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn entered. They swept silently into the room and Galadriel held her hand out to Calendula.

'Come hither, Calendula Eminemion, and receive our blessing upon your journey.'

'Not more of this,' muttered Trolo. 'I'd thought they were done.'

Calendula heard and gave him a look before bowing to the lady.

'Elbereth Gilthoniel go with you,' said Galadriel, 'and return you safely to the leaves of Lothlorien.'

Calendula started crying. Trolo looked at Oort in dismay, only to see that the dwarf was shuffling forward respectfully.

'O fairest of all,' said Oort, 'but bless me also!'

He threw himself on his knees, to Trolo's horror. Had the dwarf gone mad?

Galadriel looked slightly startled, but she smiled benignly.

'What blessing do you ask, Oort son of Dori?' she asked.

'Nay,' said Oort. 'I must not ask a blessing of such beautiful lips. But let me kiss your hand and I shall feel as if all the world has been given me.'

Trolo felt positively sick. He looked at Peg for companionship and Peg gave him a wink.

'You may kiss my hand,' said Galadriel, not even blushing. She stretched it out to him and turned her face gracefully away as his rough beard brushed it. 'And now,' she said, 'weep no more, Calendula, for your journey shall be prosperous and the service you do your world will live forever in our memories. Go, and let the stars speed you.'

Calendula rubbed his nose on his sleeve, rose, and strode to the door. Oort hoisted his pack to his shoulder and left without another look at Galadriel. Trolo staggered out after him, and Calendula seized Peg by the scruff of the neck and dragged him into the forest.

As they left the trees half an hour later Calendula looked back at his home and sniffed.

'Shut up,' said Oort. 'And let's go!'