The first thing I noticed when I walked in was Goldberry. Truly, words can never fully describe the beauty of something. When I'd read Fellowship, I knew Goldberry was meant to be beautiful, but I had never imagined this glow that radiated from her, like an Elf but more so. The glow of the Elves is more like starlight or moonlight, but Goldberry's glow was golden, like the sun, or like the great tree of Valinor named Telperion, from a fruit of which the sun was made, according to the history of Middle Earth. I remembered hearing, when I had lived on Earth, a theory about who Goldberry and Tom Bombadil really were: the theory stated that they were the Valar Yavanna and Aule, respectively, and gave very convincing evidence for it.
Now, standing here in her presence, I can believe that she is a Vala, for she is even more beautiful than the Elves that we met in Woodhall. She was clothed in a green dress shot through with silver beads and wore a golden belt shaped like flowers; about her feet were bowls filled with water to hold the lilies that Tom had brought in. When we entered, she sprang over the bowls and ran to us, laughing merrily. Taking Frodo by the hand, she said, "Come dear folk! Laugh and be merry! I am Goldberry, daughter of the River." Then she slipped behind us and shut the door. "Let us shut out the night! For you are still afraid, perhaps, of mist and tree-shadows and deep water, and untamed things. Fear nothing! For tonight you are under the roof of Tom Bombadil."
We all looked at her, amazed, and Frodo was moved to say some poetry that he came up with on the spot. She smiled and said he must be an Elf-friend for the light in his eyes and the ring in his voice. I smiled and took his hand, and he looked at me with a delighted smile. Then we sat at the table as Goldberry told us to, and we watched her quick, smooth movements as she set the table and put out the food. Frodo asked Goldberry who Tom was exactly, and she said, "Tom Bombadil is the Master." Then Tom himself was at the door and laughing, and asked if supper was ready. Goldberry said it was, but the guests were not. Tom clapped his hands and led us to a room, with mattresses and blankets on one side and bowls and water on the other. We washed our faces and our hands and combed our hair to get out the tangles and the leaves, then went to sit to dinner.
Though we ate like only hobbits can eat after a long time without food, there was always more food and plenty of drink. We found that we were singing in place of talking, as if it were more natural and easier than talking. When dinner was over, we sat in chairs with footstools by the fire while our hosts cleared the food away, and then Goldberry bid us good-night and left the room. We sat a while in the chairs, getting more and more sleepy; only Frodo mustered enough strength to ask Tom a few questions before we were taken to the room again, and we went to sleep. I laid with my back to Frodo, who wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair.
In the middle of the night I woke because of Frodo's movements; he was dreaming, and he had rolled onto his back. I rolled over to face him, putting my head on his shoulder and my hand on his chest, watching him, but I was still tired, and my eyes closed. Before I fell asleep, he woke with a slight tremor and said, "Black Riders," very quietly. I felt him turn and look at me, and his hand stroked my face and hair, and he pulled me closer to him. The last thing I remember before falling asleep is the kiss he placed on my forehead. I did not dream that night; I slept as soundly as a rock, you might say.
When we woke, Tom was moving about the room already, setting out new water to wash up; when he saw us awake, he threw open the curtains and let in the morning sunshine. I followed Frodo to the eastern window. It looked out over the kitchen garden, and the sunrise made the low clouds look like cotton balls that had been used to remove red nail polish. The air smelled wet, and the sky was heavy with clouds; rain was coming. Tom told us breakfast was waiting on the table, and then left. We dressed and went to breakfast, only leaving the table when it started to look a little empty. The window was open, and through it we heard Goldberry's singing falling down from the sky with the rain. Frodo and I stood at the open door, watching the rain turn the little white path we had followed last night into a stream of milky froth.
As we waited for Tom to return from his trip outdoors, I took the chance to write in my journal, and then I sat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace and braided my hair. Frodo came and sat in front of me on the floor, leaning against my legs. I idly ran my fingers through his dark curly hair as I watched the flames of the fire and the erratic paths they traced on the wood. Then Tom hopped in through the door and removed his boots, placing them in the chimney corner. "This is Goldberry's washing day." he said. "And her autumn-cleaning. Too wet for hobbit-folk – let them rest while they are able! It's a good day for long tales, for questions and for answers, so Tom will start the talking." Then he proceeded to tell us stories: stories of the Forest, of Old Man Willow and his influence over the entire Forest from the Hedge to the Downs; stories of the Withywindle, and its travels from a small spring in a hill to the Sea; stories of the kings and queens of old, battles fought, won and lost, people dying, people living, people buried in the Barrow-downs, the Barrow-wights.
As Tom talked of the Barrow-wights, I thought back to my life before Middle Earth, and remembered Frodo's adventure in the Downs. I stirred uncomfortably, torn between going with the events, or purposely changing them so that we would avoid the terror of the Barrow-wights. I looked at Frodo, who looked back at me with equal discomfort, and when we returned to Tom's words, we found he had changed to telling stories of a time long before hobbits ever walked on Arda, back when only the Elves gazed at the stars. When he finally fell silent, even the wind and rain seemed to have stopped to listen to his stories. Frodo asked who he was, and Tom said he was himself; he had been on Arda since before the Elves, since before the Sun and the Moon.
Then Goldberry entered the room with a candle, and announced that it was time for dinner. We sat down to dinner, and somehow it managed to be even better than the last night's. Afterwards, Goldberry sang to us, and when she had retired, Tom asked us questions about ourselves and our traveling. He already knew much, since he talked with Farmer Maggot quite often, and he got a queer look in his eye when we told him of the Ringwraiths. Then he asked Frodo to show him the Ring. When Tom put it on, he sat there for a while staring at us; then we realized he hadn't disappeared! He laughed and flipped the Ring into the air, and it vanished. Frodo gave a cry, and Tom handed it back to him with a wink. I knew what Frodo would do next: he would suspect it wasn't the real Ring, and so he would put it on. I noticed a little motion as he slipped it on as Tom was talking about badgers, and then Merry turned to Frodo and started, because he wasn't there any more; I turned to him and cocked an eyebrow. "What did Gandalf say about wearing the Ring?" I whispered as I reached for the place his hand would most likely be resting.
"I just wanted to make sure," Frodo whispered back as I found his hand and slipped the Ring back off.
"It is the Ring. No one could see you except Tom. Now just listen to his stories." Tom was telling us to avoid the Barrows by going along the far side of the Downs.
"Keep to the green grass," he said. "Don't you go a-meddling with old stone or cold Wights or prying into their houses, unless you be strong folk with hearts that never falter!" Then he told us to pass by barrows on the west side, if we had to pass them, and he taught us a rhyme that could call to him if we got into trouble. Then he led us back to the bedroom and bid us good-night. This night I couldn't sleep, and I watched Frodo dream quietly tonight, without waking. Around midnight I stood and went to the western window, looking out at the stars and the night sky. I heard a sound at the door and turned to see Goldberry there, a dim candle in her hand.
I opened my mouth to ask her why she was there, but she motioned me to silence with a finger on her lips, then motioned for me to follow her. I stepped quietly out the door and followed her to the room with the fireplace. We sat in two of the chairs, and she placed the candle on the floor between us. Then she said, "You are not of this world."
Smiling, I said, "You are not the first to have said that."
"Who were the others?"
"Gandalf, and Gildor the Elf."
"And how did you explain it away for them?"
"Gandalf did not approach me to say anything; I overheard his remark while trimming the grass once. To Gildor, I told him that any otherworldliness about me is just who I am, for I am no Elf, born with the light of the stars in my eyes and the memory of the Undying Lands always pulling me to the Sea."
"That is true enough, but it is also true that you are from another world. Do not say anything," she stopped me as I tried to interject. "I am not one to be lied to. I know you are not from Middle Earth. You were brought to this place to serve a purpose in the will of the Valar. I know this because I am one. My name is Yavanna."
"I knew it!" I interjected. She cocked an eyebrow, and I explained. "In the world I come from, Frodo's story is documented in a book. You and Tom have always been mysteries to the readers of this book, and many wonder what your real identities are. One reader did his research and came up with a theory and some very convincing evidence to prove it: that you and Tom are the Valar Yavanna and Aule. When I found myself in your home, I couldn't help wondering if the theory was true, but I didn't have a way of asking you without giving myself away."
"Well, now that neither of us has any secrets from the other, we can talk freely. Have you told anyone where you are from?"
"No. When I woke up in Middle Earth, I had a life already made for me, a life as Dawn Gamgee. I even had a journal that told me, in my own handwriting, that I had been living in Bagshot Row for my whole life. It was like my life as Dawn Ingle had never happened, except that I had all these memories of that life. I thought that if I told anyone, they would think I was crazy. So I kept my mouth shut and tried to live my life as if I had always been a part of Middle Earth."
"That is best. As I said before, you were brought here at the will of the Valar. I cannot tell you why they chose you, or why you were brought here, or when you will be returned home. I was instructed to only to give you advice. So here it is: only reveal who you are to those who you know to be absolutely trustworthy. Have you told Frodo yet?" I shook my head. "I would do so as soon as you are safe for a long while and he has the leisure to spend whole days thinking of it. That is not now. Also, do not be afraid of changing the course of the future, for it is always changing. It has already begun to change from the story that you knew because the Valar brought you to this world; you will see that when you reach Rivendell. That is all I have for you."
"Thank you."
"Return to bed. Tomorrow awaits you." I stood and nodded, then made my way to the bedroom and laid down beside Frodo.
In the morning we ate breakfast alone again, and then, with a last good-bye from Tom, we rode our ponies along a path that wound behind the house and up a steep hill. We dismounted to lead the ponies up the hill, but Frodo stopped, remembering we had forgotten to say farewell to Goldberry, not having seen her since the evening. Then a call came down from the hill before us, and there she stood, her hair glowing in the morning sun. We hurried up to her and stood breathlessly at her side, gazing over the land with her. Then she said, "Speed now, fair guests! And hold to your purpose! North with the wind in the left eye and a blessing on your footsteps! Make haste while the Sun shines!" And to Frodo she said: "Farewell, Elf-friend, it was a merry meeting!"
He bowed to her and mounted his pony. We followed suit, and I smiled at Goldberry one last time before we rode down the hill into the valleys. When we looked back, she stood still on the top of the hill, as small now as a flower, her arms stretched out towards us; she called out one last time, and raised a hand in farewell, and then disappeared over the edge of the hill.
We rode through the Downs 'til mid-day, when we stopped on a hill with a flat top, like a saucer. We looked over the countryside to the north and saw a dark line. "That is a line of trees," asid Merry. "And that must mark the Road. All along it for many leagues east of the Bridge there are trees growing."
"Splendid!" said Frodo. "If we make as good going this afternoon as we have done this morning, we shall have left the Downs before the Sun sets and be jogging on in search of a camping place." But I turned and looked eastward, and saw higher hills looking down on us, with standing stones in rings on their crowns. I shivered, thinking of the Barrow-wights, and turned away to get out the lunch things. I knew from the books that an unexpected nap was the cause of the hobbits' confusion in the fog and the reason they got captured, so I was determined not to let us fall asleep there by the standing stone. But as I sat down to eat, I felt tiredness creep over me like a blanket, and I struggled against it. The last thing I remember before falling asleep is rubbing my eyes to stay awake.
I woke with a jerk and a shiver. I cursed myself silently as I stood quickly and took in the fog and the watery sun. We had fallen asleep in the hollow, exactly what I had meant to avoid. I was upset, but the others still had hope, for they believed the dark line they had seen was the Road, when I knew it was not. We packed as quickly as our chilled fingers would allow, then mounted the ponies and set off down the hill in the way we had seen the line of trees. I kept looking to the left and the right, trying to keep a look-out for any menacing, dark shapes, but there was no point: the fog was so thick, I couldn't see a thing.
We put on cloaks and hoods, for the fog was chill and wet, and rode in single-file so as to avoid getting separated: Frodo in front, with me behind him, then Pippin, then Merry. Suddenly, two dark shapes rose up in the fog, and Frodo called, "Come on! Follow me!" for he thought they were the north-gate of the Barrow-downs. But I knew what they were, and I said, "No, Frodo, stop!" But he didn't seem to hear me, and kept riding to the shapes. I urged my pony forwards to catch up with Frodo and stop him, but at that moment, something dark flew from the fog at me and caused my pony to start and buck me off. I fell on the ground hard, and then something cold gripped my arms tightly and dragged me to my feet and away from Frodo, who I could see disappearing into the fog. "Frodo!" I called out again, and then I passed out.
I was clothed in a dress more elaborate than anything I had worn before, and there were bright jewels and gold braided into my hair and adorning my hands and arms. I stood on a balcony on a fortress on a hill, overlooking a great and terrible battle that had begun in the night and was now continuing though the sun was rising. Suddenly a door behind me opened and I spun around to face the man who walked through the door. "They are coming for you," he said. "There is little time. We must leave now to ensure your safety." He held his hand out to me.
"I will not leave my people to die without me," I said, ignoring his hand. "If they die, I will die with them."
"But my lady, you are the only hope of the survival of the line of the king. You carry his seed in you now."
I placed my hand on my stomach. "The king is dead. There is no hope for a kingdom after this battle. The men of Carn Dum are winning; by mid-day the battle will be decided, and they will take their reward of the women and the wealth. No, I will not win, for even if I have a son, he will have nothing to inherit but war and death. Let them come. I await." The door was slammed open and I turned to see who the new intruders were. Dark men, tall and swarthy, with swords and spears.
"Surrender," one of them said. "Surrender and we'll let you live. You are too beautiful a prize to waste." He sneered.
"You'll have to kill me," I replied, and took the sword from the man who had warned me to leave, not dying without a fight. The man who had asked for my surrender stabbed me through the heart, and I fell to the floor. I lay bleeding, watching as they killed the man who had entered before them. My eyes closed.
I woke. I was lying on grass under a bright sun, and there was a shadow over my face. "Dawn?" a voice asked. I realized the shadow was Frodo's head, and the voice was his; his hand was on the side of my face. I sat up quickly, then stood. Noticing the gold on my hands, head, and waist, I tore the jewelry off and threw it to the ground. "Where are my clothes?" I asked Tom, who was standing there beside Frodo.
He shook his head. "You've found yourselves again, out of the deep water. Clothes are but little loss, if you escape from drowning. Be glad, my merry friends, and let the warm sunlight heat now heart and limb!" Then he went off in search of our ponies. I sat down again and crossed my arms over my chest, noticing for the first time how thin the rags were that I was wearing. Then I noticed something else that was missing: my bracelet! The one Frodo had given me when we got engaged, the one that I wore as a symbol of our love and marriage. I looked around in vain, hoping that I had mistaken it as a piece of the jewelry I had thrown off, but I did not see it.
Frodo noticed the upset look on my face. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to me.
"My bracelet," I said, showing him my bare wrist. "It must have been taken like the rest of my clothing. Lost now." I felt tears well up in my eyes.
"Don't worry, Dawn. It was just a bracelet. It can be replaced. Better it lost than you." He wiped away one tear that leaked from the corner of my eye. Then he took his outer coat off and wrapped it around my shoulders. Tom reappeared with our ponies and Merry, Pippin, and I clothed ourselves in spare clothing from our packs. We ate a quick lunch with the last of the food in our packs, supplemented by what Tom had brought.
Tom took a blue brooch from the top of the pile of jewels, staring at it long as if remembering. "Here is a pretty toy for Tom and for his lady!" he said. "Fair was she who long ago wore this on her shoulder. Goldberry shall wear it now, and we will not forget her!" Then he plucked a bracelet from the pile and gave it to me, saying, "And this she wore as well, a gift from her husband. Wear it now in place of the one you lost, and forget not her you dreamt of." I thanked him and took the bracelet, putting it around my wrist. It was made of silver, with blue stones set in it; I recognized it from my dream under the barrow.
Then Tom took daggers and gave them to us, and told us that they were made by the Men of Westernesse long ago. "Few now remember them," he murmured. "Yet still some go wandering, sons of forgotten kings walking in loneliness, guarding from evil things folk that are heedless." A vision seemed to fill our eyes: a great expanse of years was behind us, and through the mist of it the shapes of Men walked, tall and grim with bright swords, and the last one with a star on his brow. The others looked confused, but I knew the one with the starry brow was Aragorn, and the Men behind him were his ancestors.
We belted the weapons around our waists, finding them strange to wear and hoping we wouldn't have to use them. Then we mounted up and rode in the direction of the Road, with Tom Bombadil riding beside us and before us, leading the way. When we reached the Road he parted with us, giving us some last advice: "Four miles along the Road you'll come upon a village, Bree under Bree-hill, with doors looking westward. There you'll find an old inn that is called The Prancing Pony. Barliman Butterbur is the worthy keeper. There you can stay the night, and afterwards the morning will speed you upon your way. Be bold, but wary! Keep up your merry hearts, and ride to meet your fortune!"
We begged him to come with us for a last drink, but he would not leave the boundries of his land. He rode off into the dusk with a merry song. "I am sorry to take leave of Master Bombadil," I said. "He was a wise man, and a good one. I doubt we'll find one better or wiser before we get to Rivendell. I won't deny, however, that news of an inn sounds awfully nice. I hope it's like The Green Dragon in Bywater. What sort of folk live in Bree, Merry?"
"There are hobbits in Bree," he answered. "As well as Big Folk. I daresay it will be homelike enough. The Pony is a good inn by all accounts."
"Don't make yourselves too much at home," Frodo warned. "Please don't make fools of yourselves, and none of you mention the name of Baggins. I am Mr. Underhill when you speak of me." We all nodded, and then rode off along the Road. A sudden memory of the book came to me then, and I looked quickly behind the hedges along the side of the Road. I caught a glimpse of dark hair and eyes, and then the slightest movement as the man behind the hedge moved his head away from the gap where he was watching us. I waited until his eyes appeared again, then caught their gaze with my own. I winked at him with a smile, then put a finger to my lips. It was Aragorn, also known as Strider, and he would be waiting for us at The Prancing Pony when we got our rooms.