XVIII

Hollin's Lament

For a fortnight they traveled thus, walking through the darkness behind Aragorn and Gandalf, who seemed to know each tussock and stone of this land. The hobbits stayed between the taller folk, sometimes linking hands on the moonless nights, when the darkness grew blinding. Gimli walked before them mostly, his sharp ears open for any sound of danger, his walking-ax in his hand. Boromir came behind the hobbits with Legolas at the rearguard. The Elf could not see in the dark, not as his namesake in ancient days could, but nevertheless his sight was keen and he could see fairly well beneath even a grudging moon and a few stars.

On this night the wrack of clouds that flew swiftly overhead, borne on that ill-feeling wind, finally broke and melted away. The sun rose on a clear morning as the travelers stumbled to the crest of a low ridge. Cold as it was, the vision of the ancient holly trees still living and growing was a welcome sight to them all. Legolas ran his hands over their grey-green trunks, stroking with delight the dark leaves that hung down sprinkled with clusters of berries in deadly red.

The mountains rose sharply up on their left, marching off to disappear into the distance both west and east. Immediately at hand were three massive peaks which dominated their crowded brethren, the largest and nearest seeming to glow red where the rising sun touched it. A great mantle of snow covered it and flowed far down its sides.

Gandalf named the land they had reached Hollin, and gave a brief history for the benefit of the hobbits and Boromir. Legolas knew some of story already, as did Gimli. To Legolas, the tales of the elves that had once dwelled there was a sad story that was sang on winter's evenings. To the Dwarf, it was a kind of homecoming.

Gimli spoke the names of the peaks in his own language, forgetting that he was accompanied by non-Dwarves. "Baraz, Zirak, Shathûr... only once before have I seen them from afar in waking life..." he murmured. Then he spoke of that dark place that lay beneath that mightiest mountain, and as his eyes glowed with fervor and desire, he did not see that many of his Companions winced to hear that name spoken aloud, including the bearer of the Ring.

"What is it, Frodo," whispered Merry, who was standing next to his cousin as they gazed across the land. "We should get down from out of this wind and get some rest. I'm shivering, too."

"It's not that, Merry," Frodo answered softly, still staring at the ruddy peak. "I just have a strange feeling... a dreadful feeling..."

Legolas was alos experiencing a strange awareness. Though Gandalf spoke of the Elves who had once dwelled there, the green elf could not feel them as he could feel the presence of his folk in other places where they had once dwelled. It had been too long and too much hurt had come to that place; the trees and grasses did not remember them anymore. Only the stones spoke of them, lamenting.

"'They are gone,'" Legolas said softly. "They sought the Havens long ago."

All the travelers were relieved to hear Gandalf announce that they would rest all through this day and following night. A fire was lit and a warm meal prepared; the first in many long days. Seeing the cheer of the hobbits, Legolas laid aside his grief for Hollin and enjoyed their carefree laughter. Soon everyone was in a better humour, even the dour Boromir.

The Man had finally discovered something he could do to contribute to the welfare of the Companions, and his humour improved immediately. After their meal he set about instructing the halflings on proper handling and use of their weapons. Here at last he could show the skill and nobility for which his people were renowned. He rallied the hobbits into a circle.

Legolas and Aragorn watched them with interest, as Gimli and Gandalf took up the guard. Though both Elf and Ranger could have offered much information and advice, they remained silent, letting the Warrior instruct his class.

First, Boromir showed them how to hold their swords. In his great hands, the leaf-shaped blades appeared merely as long knives, but he instructed the hobbits as he would young Men; how to grip the pommel, how to move the wrist. Soon he had all four standing in first position, the tips of the swords of Westerness gleaming red, while Sting gave off a glimmer like a star.

Frodo listened intently to Boromir, but soon he begged to fall out of ranks, for his weariness had caught up with him. Sam saw him settled as comfortably as possible, then rejoined Merry and Pippin. The little gardener looked very unsure as he swung his barrow-blade to mirror the other's movements. He kept dropping his sword. Boromir was surprisingly patient with him, and soon he was keeping up with the other two, even if gracefulness was perhaps ever beyond his ken.

Aragorn rose and wandered off during the lesson, becoming restless of the quietude of the land. He climbed the ridge and stood beside a tree for a long hour, just looking and listening. Legolas watched him with one eye, noting how like an Elf that Man could move; silent, swift, and light. When he returned, he spoke to them of the listening silence of the land, and the troublesome lack of beasts and birds. Gandalf then bade them cease speaking aloud and to rest. The watch was set and the others joined Frodo in sleep.

Legolas lay watching the movement of the holly trees in the wind, letting his mind recall the whispering of the beeches in his woodland home far away. The silence that Aragorn spoke of was clear to the Elf, and as he listened deeper, past the sounds of the sleepers and the restless watchers, the ground beneath them seemed to breathe a sorrowful song. Legolas let the sound take his attention fully, as Aragorn was watching with Sam. This song he heard, from lips of stone and voices of ash:

Whither have gone the Folk?
Why do the vales echo hollow?
The holly grows still on the borders,
The grasses sigh to feel the passage of their feet
Where are the wandering waters?
Why do we hear no more songs?
Can we have been forgotten by those who once loved us so?

Deep they delved us
Fair they wrought us
High they builded us;
But they are gone
Gone...

The silence was crushing. Legolas stood and walked to the holly trees. Beneath their branches he intended to wait until it was time to move on, taking some small comfort that they sang no longer of their loss.